


Living in a Vacuum

by TaraLaurel1



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Brotherhood, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 25,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraLaurel1/pseuds/TaraLaurel1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ponyboy thought writing his theme would help him cope, it didn't. He's spiraling out of control and getting into even more trouble; trouble that could cost him his life. Friends and family describe him as a different person. What's going on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue Monday

**Author's Note:**

> A/N I wrote this YEARS ago (along with most of my Outsiders fics that I've posted on here) so forgive any errors, etc. But I got my most reviews from this fic, so I thought I would post it here too despite the fact that my writing I hope has improved since then.
> 
> It is set right after Ponyboy finishes writing his theme. The story starts off a bit slow, but picks up steam soon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I only realized this after originally posting this story that I spend the majority of the fic spelling Darrell's name wrong. My apologies. For re-posting it here, I didn't really want to go through and try to correct it every time. I do work three jobs you know! So, again, sorry!

As I dropped my pencil, I searched myself for the feeling. I had expected it to be there when I was done writing. I had stayed up all through the nights the past weekend and a few last week, finishing my theme. I didn't know why. It just all came rushing out of me at once like a tidal wave and I had to spill it all out or I would explode. Again, I waited for the feeling. Nothing. I'm not sure what exactly I was waiting for. Something, anything I guess. I had hoped writing my story and the story of Johnny and Dal would have been, I don't know, therapy or something. Growing up, whenever I got mad or upset about something like a Soc at school or fighting with Darry after mom and dad died, I would just write about it and I would feel somewhat better. If I didn't, I just talked to Soda about it. But I couldn't tell him about this, not this. My stomach was in knots and my head was on fire. I could hear Darry up and in the kitchen and could tell Steve was already over. Remaining at the desk, I kicked at the bed where Soda still snored.

"Hey, Soda. Time to get up. You've got work."

My weak attempts failed and just in time for Darry to come barging in, smelling of chocolate and flour. He stared at me for a moment and for a moment I almost thought worry crossed his face.

"Ponyboy? Have you been up all night?"

The sternness was back.

"Yeah. Big deal. Working on homework. Besides, I slept enough when I was sick."

"You were sick awhile ago and you can't keep pulling that card with me. Homework is important, kid, but so is sleep. Now you're going to be dozing off in class. What is up with you lately?"

Soda's yawn broke the tension before I could respond. He sleepily glanced from me to Darry.

"Well," Darry started, "if it isn't Sleeping Beauty? Up and at 'em kiddo, Steve's already here. You're going to be late for work, again. Let's go. Ponyboy, we're going to finish this discussion later, ya here?"

I didn't respond and luckily he had to get ready for work instead of press me.

By now, my brothers trusted me to get ready for and get to school on my own when they worked early. They were both gone by the time I got out of the shower. Darry had propped open the door and warned me not to be late, while Soda told me to have a good day. A large portion of me wanting badly to skip school. I was dog tired and was beginning to dislike the place. I used to love going every day and learning new things. Now it had become a chore just to push myself to leave the house each morning. The old me half-wished Darry was here to do the pushing for me. He always made sure I got to school on time, if not early. Now that I was making the trip alone, it was tempting to just now show up. I would've too, I f not for the stupid theme paper. I didn't care about the grade anymore, but I had worked my tail off on it and wasn't about to let that work go to waste. Besides, Darry would skin me for missing school, even for being late. Part of me was starting not to care. Late. Shoot. I looked at the clock and hurried out the door with nothing but my paper.

When I got home from school, I saw Darry waiting for me on the couch, my stack of school books and bag sitting beside him.

"Forget something today?" He asked before even saying hello. I always hated how Darry would do that to me. I rarely got a "hi" from him. It was usually a "you're late", "where have you been", "what were you doing" or on occasion, "how was school".

"Yeah" I mumbled, "sorry. I was just so excited about my theme paper," I lied, "guess in all the excitement I forgot my books. It's cool, don't worry, didn't need them really today, especially with the year almost over."

The lie saved my tail.

"At least you were distracted by other homework instead of your imagination as usual. Just don't do it again. We can't afford for your grades to slip."

I wanted to say "big deal", but knew I'd get my head busted open for not caring about school.

That night was the first night I had slept in a long time. I didn't know if I was more relieved or scared. I was happy to finally be in bed and relax, but knew all too well what was going to come next if I dozed off. I tried to tell myself it wouldn't happen again and to block it from my mind. I focused on nothing buck the blackness behind my e if I dozed off. I tried to tell myself it wouldn't happen again and to block it from my mind. I focused on nothing but the blackness behind my eyelids and soon I was drifting off.


	2. In the Still of the Night

My skin was boiling and my heart pounded so loudly I thought the entire world was going to able to hear it. Flames crackled and roared all around me, their heat penetrating my body. The building was old and large, and strangely felt very familiar. I couldn't place it though. I began walking forward. Something was wrong. There was a dark figure standing in the corner, behind some fallen beams. Flames licked my skin as I proceeded, but failed to burn my now numb body. The smoke was thick and I couldn't make out the figure yet.

"Hello?" I coughed, "Who's there? What are you – "

I froze as I got closer and the blurred image cleared into an all too familiar face. For my entire lifetime, I would never forget it. The boy's hair was dark and tangled and matted together from grease and sweat. His dark complexion was masked by dirt and burns. The scar on his cheek was barely visible underneath the soot. His skin was peeling and red. If it wasn't for his innocent and fearful eyes, he would have looked like a monster from some bad horror movie or something.

"Why, Pony?" He choked out through a tear, "How could you do this to me? You were my best friend." In an instant, his water-filled eyes narrowed and turned hate-filled. This time he was yelling. "You did this to me!"

I stumbled back at the remark and felt my foot kick something soft, yet solid. I looked down to see my best friend lying on his stomach, unmoving, a beam covering his back. I quickly kneeled and used all my strength to pull the large piece of wood off of him. When I looked back at him, the beam was there again. This time I rolled it off, but another one just reappeared. I continued to work at the pointless task over and over until my arms could lift anymore.

"No!" I screamed in desperation.

"Yes!" The dark figure responded. "You couldn't save me! You didn't even try!"

"I did" I stammered, "the beam, it won't – " I stopped as I realized my body was no longer numb and flames were covering my back and part of my arm. I screamed in pain and whirled around, trying to put the fire out. The pain was excruciating but I managed to form words, "I tried, Johnny! I was on fire. There was so much smoke, I – " The heat was increasing and I thought I was going to die, "Dally pulled me out. We both tried so hard to save you."

"But you didn't! You couldn't save me and then Dallas died because of it!"

"No!" I shouted, still fighting the pain as well as the remarks from my once best friend.

I continued to try to escape the flames but they were everywhere, engulfing me with every move I made. I could feel my skin burning and thought it was going to come right off of my body. The sound of my pounding heart increased. I wanted to slap myself for being embarrassed about such a thing when I was burning to death. I continued to cry out in pain and for help until I felt a strong hand on my shoulder.

I shot up in bed. I was sweating pretty bad and quickly looked all over my body for the flames. They were gone. I gave a sigh of relief, but then looked up to see both of my brothers standing over me. Now I was really embarrassed.

"I had to get out of bed you were thrashing around so much" Soda said, breaking the silence, "Darry could hear you screaming from his room." He sat down beside me and brushed back my hair. I turned my head away. No way were they going to see me cry over something as stupid as a dream.

"What happened?" Darry asked sternly, but with concern hidden.

"Nothing" I lied "Just a nightmare I guess." I flashed Soda a look for him to shut his trap but found I didn't need to. He knew I didn't like sharing stuff with Darry and he knew I had had more nightmares than just this one. "No big deal. I'm fine. You can go back to bed."

He hesitated and began to protest when Soda stood up and began nudging him out, "Don't worry about, big brother. I'll take care of my little brother. Go, sleep, so you're not falling asleep on some guy's roof, and then falling off. We need you alive around here, you know, to cook all the meals."

Soda could always lighten the mood and say the right thing to get people smiling or laughing, even Darryl. They both smiled and Darry would have probably pretended to deck him if he really wasn't so tired. He finally agreed to leave Soda and me alone, but warned me to talk to him about it if he needed to. That's exactly what it was too, more of a stern warning than a caring suggestion. But that was Darry for you. Soda shut the door behind him and crawled back into bed next to me. I turned away from him to hide the tears.

"Shoot, kid," Soda said, pulling my shoulder so I would face him, "you know you ain't got to hide that from me. Come on, look at your brother now." I rolled over, wiping what I hoped were the last bits of water from my eyes. "Another nightmare, baby?" Soda asked in his most gentle and caring voice. I nodded. "They're getting worse, aren't they?"

I couldn't even nod. Before I knew it, I was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. I hated myself for doing it in general, but especially in front of someone. At least it was Sodapop. Darry would not have known what to do and the rest of the gang might have made fun of me for it. Soda just drew me in close to him and let me soak his shirt with my tears. He rocked me slightly and whispered into my ear until I finally fell back into the darkness.

 


	3. All I Have to Do is Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I KNOW Ponyboy is seeming to becoming out of character, but that is the point. Think of how he was in the book scene with the busted bottle and the group of Socs, where he scares them off and Two-Bit and Steve don't even need to back him up. That is what he is going through, you'll find out why and if he turns back into his sweet self later on, promise!

I could feel myself dragging the entire next day. Sure, I had slept pretty much through the night, but let's just say those images don't exactly cause restful feelings in a person. That plus the nights without rest and the other nightmare filled sleeps were killing me. Sodapop had been right. I had nightmares a lot throughout life. Some were when I was real little, but most of them started after mom and dad died. Awhile back I finally began having normal dreams and peaceful nights. Soda and I were both relieved and thought the worst was over. We were wrong. They started up again when I was sick and we hoped they would leave with the illness. When they didn't, Soda got real worried. He begged me to tell Darry and when I wouldn't he threatened to rat on me himself. I got awfully angry and sad when he told me that. Once Soda saw how much the threat had hurt me, he backed down. He still really wanted Darry to know and would plead with me from time to time after a real bad nightmare, but I refused. Darry had no clue about any of the dreams I had or that I even had them. Normally, I didn't scream enough to wake him up. Just Soda. Even he didn't know everything. I wouldn't talk about what I saw in them anymore and I think he assumed they were still the reoccurring ones about mom and dad. I couldn't tell him the truth. I couldn't tell anybody.

I pretended I was fine and for the most part, people believed me. Soda knew some of the truth but I convinced him they were just dreams and didn't get to me like they truly did. He still worried but was too happy-go-lucky to stay that way for long. He'd say something funny to cheer the both of us up and I would pretend to laugh and smile widely and he would be okay and himself again. As much I wanted to push people away, I still didn't want to hurt Soda or have him worry. Darry was his usual concerned but too busy to care self. He tried to talk to me a couple more times here and there the next couple days but would have work to get to or bills to sort through. The gang was pretty easy to fool. Two-Bit would cock an eyebrow every now and then. His concern and protectiveness for me greatly increased after he had known I had a fever but kept quiet about it before the rumble. After I fainted and was real sick, Two-Bit had come by and blubbered to Darry about the whole thing and how sorry and responsible he felt. Despite his new protecting attitude, he was still the same old easy to fool guy. Steve just plain didn't pay any attention to me. The only person in the entire gang that would have read through my fake smiles and lies would have been Johnny. That boy could read me like I could read a book. It was scary sometimes. Johnny. The images of my best friend burnt and screaming at me flashed in my head and I shook my head to clear them away.

"Ponyboy," Cherry whispered from the desk next to me, "are you alright?"

Everything came to focus in an instant. English class. I had lost myself in my thoughts so deep that I had forgotten I was even there. I blinked hard and looked over at Cherry. Quickly, I forced a smile to my lips and nodded 'yes'. She gave me a relieved grin and went back to her notes. I stared down at my blank white pages. Normally, I was an avid note taker. I flipped back through last week's notes. A few scribbles here and there, some drawings, but mostly, blank. I wasn't even sure what chapter of "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac we were on by now. Didn't matter, I had already read it of course. I started to add on to the drawing on one of the pages to keep my mind from wandering or worse, falling asleep. Just as I made my first pencil stroke, the bell rang. Great, I thought. On to history, where it is even more boring and more likely I will fall asleep. I grabbed my things and hurried out the classroom, trying not to notice Cherry staring after me.

The sirens echoed as if they were coming from every direction, getting louder by the second.

"You're never gonna get me alive!

"Drop it!"

"Don't shoot! It's not loaded!"

The piercing sound of multiple gunshots joined the shouts and cries.

"No! No! Don't!"

"He's just a kid!"

"Ponyboy Curtis!"

The last shout jolted me awake and I glanced around, startled. Where were my friends? Where was my gang? Where was Dally? The sound of laughter from students around me brought me back to reality.

"Am I boring you, Mr. Curtis?"

I peered up to see my History teacher, standing tall over me. I slouched in my chair and mumbled "a little". There was another wave of laughter from some students and others became silent, including Randy the Soc, in utter shock. I was even surprised at my reaction. Any other time I would have politely and quietly said "no ma'am" .

"Well," the teacher started, also in shock at her number one student's new attitude, "I'm sorry to hear that. I think the principal will be sorry too, when he hears about it from you, now."

The laughter was replaced by whispers and "oohs" but I barely noticed. My mind was focusing all its energy on forgetting the dream. The rest of me was on auto pilot. I scoffed a "Whatever, big deal", before grabbing my bag and heading out of the classroom. Walking down the hall, the visuals finally faded and I could think clearly again. Oh no, I thought. The principle. He'll probably call Darry and then I will really be in for it. Dumb teacher, I thought to myself still walking slowly. Who can blame me for falling asleep during a lecture about boring World War II leaders and their life stories? I already know all that junk from books I have read over the years. I was beginning to become ashamed at how much useless information I knew. Before, I liked it and was proud. All of a sudden it all seemed pointless and pathetic. It didn't matter if I knew the difference between Roosevelt's and Truman's contributions. It didn't matter that I even knew the war took place. Life still kicked you in the head no matter how smart or dumb you were. Lots of Socs were dumber than tree stumps and they were better off than me. I had more smarts than most of the kids in my school and my parents' died. Johnny, despite some difficulties, was actually a very bright kid, but was still killed. Dally didn't know John Adams from John Smith and was still gunned down. No, none of it mattered. I stopped in the hallway when I realized that for the first time, I didn't want to go to college. I had dreamed about it since I was small, but now couldn't stand the idea. I could get real smart and real rich but shit would still happen. To top it off, I would become no better than a Soc. All these new thoughts and feelings were rushing through me so fast, my head was spinning. I finally reached the principal's office when it all sank in and hit me. In that moment, I grew cold. In that moment, I stopped caring. As I walked straight past the office without entering, heading for the back exit I could hear Dally's words in my head. "You get tough like me and you don't get hurt. You look out for yourself and nothin' can touch you…"


	4. Suspicious Minds

It was the first time I had ever ditched school. Two-Bit tried to get me to do it with all the time but I refused. One, I liked being at school and two, Darry would go crazy if I did and then go crazy on Two-Bit. I just didn't care anymore. At least, that's what I told myself. I spent the rest of the day kicking around bottles and avoiding places anyone in the gang, especially Darryl or Sodapop, would see me. I made a stop at a close by pond that I liked to go swimming in. It was well hidden in the woods and not many people knew or cared about it due to the larger one ten minutes away. I loved that fact. The gang didn't even know about it. It was my private spot. I would go there to sit on the shore and read or draw when it was too cold for swimming and sometimes caught frogs and things. During the right time of year, the area would light up with at dark with blinking fire flies. Several nights, I would find an old jar or coke bottle and catch a bunch. It took me a couple hours the first time and I ended up being late to get home. I was pretty young and just when dad was about to lay into me, I shoved my jar in his face and grinned bigly.

"Look daddy, look! Light switch bugs! I think they're broken, daddy. They won't stay on or off. I wanted to bring them home so I could read about them and then make them all better!"

The anger fell from my father's face in an instant and he just grinned, holding back a chuckle, attempting to maintain some form of a serious manner. My mother took the jar from my hands, laughing wildly. I didn't see what was so funny at the time. I was dead serious and thought there was nothing laughable about a bunch of sick bugs. Mom apologized and explained that they were not sick at all, it was just how they were. Sodapop had already run in the room and was poking at the glass in amazement. Darry stood with his arms folded, beside me dad who had his folded too. I think they were both somewhat proud of me. Dad told me to be home on time next time but that I was a good boy for wanting to help the bugs. Darry gave me a grin and congratulated me on catching so many. He even told me that he had tried to do the same when my age and couldn't get that many. It was one of the few times Darry had ever shared anything with me.

The memory was interrupted by the splash of a small bird grabbing a bug from the surface of the water. I looked up at the sun. I hadn't realized so much time had gone by. School was sure to be out by now. I walked to the nearest store and checked. School had been out for about 30 minutes. Perfect, I thought. I decided to go visit Soda at the DX. No one would suspect a thing, I reassured myself.

Once I got there, my stomach turned over. Steve and Soda were working on a car, but only half paying attention to what they were doing. Two-Bit was sitting on an upside down metal garbage can. Those two things were normal but it was the two other people I knew standing there that caught me off guard. One of them spotted me and said something I couldn't make out. I assumed he had announced my presence because the other non-regular to the DX stopped talking, Soda dropped his tools to the ground, and the entire group just stared at me as I walked up.

"Randy, Cherry, what are you guys doing here?" Normally, with the trouble I was probably in, I would have been stammering and thinking up as many believable excuses as I could. This time, I simply asked the question with no inflection.

"That's what we asked them when they showed up here about 15 minutes ago." Soda was trying to sound tough like Darry was with me, but was more worried than anything.

"Figured it had to be for something pretty important seeing as not many Socs come around here" Steve added bitterly.

"Ponyboy," Soda continued, "We need to talk."

"About what?" I said coolly.

"You damn well know what!" Steve shouted, standing up. "You think you can just skip school and risk you and your brother, my best friend, being sent to a boy's home. Think again!"

Soda motioned for Steve to settle down and tried again, "Pony, you know what I am talking about. Falling asleep in class, ditching early. You're acting more like I did in school than yourself." He joked trying to lighten the mood, as always. "This isn't a game, honey." I hated him calling me that in front of the guys. "You know Darry has been getting on you for your grades slippin'. We let it go at first because of everything that happened but it's been awhile now and you can't just stop living".

He did sound like Darry now and I didn't like it. His words echoed what Darry had said to me a little over a month ago. He had scolded me for "living in a vacuum". Who cares? I thought.

"Ponyboy," Cherry finally spoke up, "we are all worried about you. We just want to help."

"What is this, some sort of intervention? I skip half a day once in my entire life and suddenly you guys call for back up?"

"It's more than the skipping, Pone," Soda said, "and you know it."

"Besides," I continued to Cherry and Randy, ignoring my brother, "why would  _you_ want to help  _me_? You're nothing but spoiled, no good Socs!"

The remark seemed to cut both of them.

"Cherry's come through for us before," Two-Bit finally chimed in defensively, "and Randy is your friend. You're the one that convinced us he is different than the rest. You take that back, kid."

"Different?" I scoffed, "They're no different than the rest of 'em. People don't change. People just let you down. They just fail you."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Two-Bit was starting to sound a mix of angry and alarmed at my change.

"Just never mind. I'm just grumpy and tired. I haven't been sleeping well and I just didn't want to deal with the principal today. I'm sorry guys." I really wasn't, but I was sick and tired of defending myself against my own so-called friends. I just lied and got them off my case for the moment. "Everyone's allowed a bad day, right?" I faked a light smile to convince everyone I was being sincere. I knew Soda wouldn't buy it but I could deal with him later, alone. Cherry still looked suspicious but dropped it and told Randy she should probably be getting home before her parents worry. They left, barely making eye contact with me on the way to their cars. When I turned back to the gang, Two-Bit was back sitting goofily on the garbage can and saying something about how good Cherry had looked and Steve was trying to focus on the section of hood he was polishing. When my gaze finally found my brother, he was just staring at me. He hadn't believed a phony word I had said. He gave me a "we're discussing this later" look and went back to doing whatever he was doing with the hubcap. Great, I thought. It didn't change anything, really. I still had stopped caring, but Soda? I could never stop caring about Soda. Even though I was lying to him a lot more than I ever had before, I knew he could get the full truth out of me if he pushed hard enough. I just wasn't going to give him the chance. I couldn't.


	5. The Great Pretender

I tensed up as I reached my house. I had wanted to give myself a chance to think and cool off before facing Darry. I could see Soda's silhouette through the window. Crap. I had at least hoped to confront Darry before Soda got to him and told him about what had happened at the DX too. There were other figures too. Great, the whole gang was probably waiting for me. Darry was pacing, typical. I knew the longer I waited, the longer he had to boil up inside so it was best to bite the bullet and face him sooner rather than later. I had to come up with something. I fell asleep because of nightmares keeping me awake and then decided I have given up on caring about pretty much anything so I skipped going to the principal and the rest of the day at school, just wasn't going to cut it. It would just get me cut up into ribbons. Think, think, I yelled at myself. I was so brainy but sometimes just couldn't use my head. That got me in trouble a lot. Like when I would forget to bring a coat somewhere at night, or would leave the door open after coming inside the house, or phone if I was going to be late. Things like that made Darry's head spin and they were minor compared to today's events. I had to think of something and I had to do it fast. I suddenly remembered how Darry had looked at me the night I came back to the house after the rumble. I was beat up and bloody. I had disappeared to go see Johnny with Dally after the greasers had won and was gone for awhile. Any other time, my oldest brother would have tore into me about where I had been. He had laid off though, why? I then also remembered that he had been by my side caring for me when I was real sick. How he tried his hardest to be nice and comforting whenever I got jumped. It was a whole new low for me and the pit of my stomach argued against the plan, but I was done taking lectures from and being pushed around by Darry. If the truth didn't ever get me anywhere, lying would have to do the trick. It always appeared to work for Dallas and Two-Bit, getting whatever they wanted by lying, manipulating, and sweet talking. Lying got me out of the jam at the DX. It seemed to be working so far.

I quickly ducked out of my front yard as to not be seen through the window. I tore my shirt at the sleeve and rubbed dirt and grass all over my clothes. I searched the ground for a broken bottle; there always was one around somewhere. I grabbed an empty and abandon coke bottle by the neck, smashed it against a rock and used to sharp, jagged glass to make cuts. I drew a long, deep one into my arm where I ripped the shirt. I winced slightly but as I started to care emotionally and mentally less and less, physical stuff hurt less as well. Besides, hurting yourself is a lot different than having some Soc laughing and cutting into you. I made a few small, shallow scratches on my face and left hand. I then proceeded to mess up my hair. I hated to do it, but it is the first thing a Soc went to mess up when jumping a greaser. There was no way I got out of a fight with still slicked back perfect hair. I ruffled and knotted it, rubbing dirt in it and on my forehead. Here came the hard part. The blows. When you got jumped by a Soc you got your hair messed with, your skin cut up by their fancy rings, broken beer bottles, or blade, and quite a few punches and kicks. They weren't just going to do one or two of the steps. It sounded lame when I thought about it. It's not like they thought about all those things when they attacked you. No one handed out the "Guide to Jumping Greasers". It all just came naturally. I readied myself and swung my fist as hard as I could into my eye. Within seconds, I could feel that it was going to swell and shine. I did the same to my cheek. No one would look under my jeans or shirt so I stopped at my face and just held my stomach to look as if I had taken some hits there too. I couldn't believe what I was doing. This was really better than a simple getting yelled at or grounded? The other half of me answered a quick yes. This way, I was in control. I finally could somewhat call the shots.

I heard the pacing stop as the sound of my footsteps on the porch sounded. The screen door made its typical piercing screech as I slowly pushed it open. Darry was in my face in an instant, ready to pounce. He paused when he took in the image of my battered body.

"Where have you been," He started, some of the anger still there but not as intense, "what the hell happened to you?"

I went shopping, what do you think it looks like? I wanted to reply. I held it back in. I had to play it cool and innocent. I had to keep fooling and manipulating him for as long as possible. I forced a few fake tears that normally I would be humiliated showing Darry. I was real quiet, like I was right before I told the gang about Johnny, except this time I was in control of the situation.

"Ponyboy, what's wrong?" His voice was softer.

Soda came by and took my shoulders, "Come on little buddy, let's sit down. You're gonna be okay, ya hear? They ain't gonna hurt you no more."

I felt terribly awful tricking Soda. He really did love me, a lot, and I loved him, more than anyone else in the world. But to fool Darry, I just had to fool Soda too. My stomach still formed knots over it and I groaned. Ironically, it just made me look all the more horrible.

"Socs" I moaned, sitting down between my brothers, Soda fixing my hair gingerly and Darry examining the cut on my arm.

"Damn good for nothing…" Steve went on to curse the Socs with every name in the book and Two-Bit added a few choice phrases of his own into the mix.

"They've been hassling me more at school" I lied. I got harassed by them all the time everywhere anyway, but not any more than usual "still on me about everything that happened, Johnny, Bob, you know. They started making more threats. That's what I was dreaming about" I said, turning to Soda but looking him in the eye as little as possible "about getting jumped. I didn't say anything 'cause you all got enough to worry about without some kid needing protecting and I thought it was just regular Soc threats. Plus, they told me if I ratted on 'em, they'd find me somehow, someway and make it much worse than they planned. I'm sorry I didn't say anything and that I was mean, I was just scared is all. Today at school I had another nightmare about it and got sent to the principal's office. Before I could get there, a Soc stopped me in the hall. He slammed me against the lockers real good and gave me a couple of hits to the stomach before locking me in some janitor's closet or something. I didn't want to get in trouble, to get us all in trouble, by screaming and having some teacher find me and not believing my story and then thinking I was up to something. I waited until after school, one of the janitors opened it and I made up some story and left for the DX. That's why I wasn't in classes and was mad at Cherry and Randy for being Socs."

I amazed myself how easily the lies poured out of my mouth and how smoothly and seamlessly they fit together. It was like I was writing one of my stories and this all actually did happen to the character. I was getting so wrapped up in telling the gang how I had gotten jumped coming home from the DX, I was starting to believe it all myself. That was, until I looked over at Soda. He was trying to take everything in all at once, I did tend to talk sort of fast, and had tears welling up in his eyes in pity and love for his baby brother. I stopped midsentence and forced myself to look away, down at the floor. I was partly ashamed, partly proud. All I felt was shame when I looked at Sodapop though, so I had to look elsewhere. The room was dead silent and I didn't know what to expect. I waited to Steve to curse some more or hound me for walking home on my lonesome, or Two-Bit to crack a joke to relieve tension. I waited for Soda to read through my lies and demand the truth or for Darry to still lay into me about everything, despite the fake story. I guess I had made myself look pretty bad because Darry just looked concerned more than anything for once.

"Who did this?" Darry demanded, "I'll skin them alive for this!"

Crap. I hadn't thought this far ahead. Told you I never used my head. I continued to look down for awhile. Lying and hurting myself was one thing, but framing some innocent kids was something completely different.  _Innocent kids?_ I argued with myself.  _There's nothing innocent about them. They would've done this to you anyway, given the chance. They got your best friend killed. They deserve it._ I mumbled that I didn't remember everything too clearly but listed a couple well-know Socs. I knew Darry would well, confront, them and would never belief them if they denied it. I stopped feeling bad about it almost too quickly but didn't notice. Soda dabbed at a few of the cuts with his handkerchief he always had handy in his back pocket. He held my chin up so that my face was in the light and commented on my "soon-to-be nice shiner". Two-Bit commented that the scrapes and bruises made me look tuff. _Yeah, real tuff. It's real tuff to beat yourself up._ I shook off the self-questioning thoughts.

Soda took me into the kitchen to clean and bandage me up while Darry stewed and the rest of the gang reminisced with old stories of each of them being jumped. I heard Two-Bit spin some tale about rescuing some Soc girl from her boyfriend. Apparently, they were fighting and the guy started to get physical with her. When she screamed for him to knock it off, Two-Bit had walked by and told the boy to let her go. After an exchange of certain words and phrases between the two, a couple of the Soc's friends showed up. Two-Bit got louder as he fibbed his way through the rest of the fight, ending the story with going off with the beautiful Soc girl and spending the entire night together. We all knew what spending the night together meant when it came to Two-Bit.

"You wish" Steve remarked.

"You're just jealous that I can get any girl I want" Two-Bit lied again.

"Nah man," Steve argued "you're just jealous you didn't hold off four guys with a busted pop bottle."

"Again with the 'busted pop bottle' story" Darry mumbled. He trailed off thinking of other things. "I'd like to take a busted bottle to those Soc's heads."

We all sort of froze at that. Darry was the toughest greaser in our neighborhood and even Tim Shepherd, who was almost scarier than Dallas Winston, feared my brother. Darry fought when needed, but never sought one out.  _Maybe I pushed him over the edge. Maybe Darry wasn't caring anymore either._ I could only hope so.


	6. Street Fighting Man

Hoping for your own brother to go dark inside and stop caring along with you is twisted; I know it, believe me. But as much as I wanted grab control of my life, isolate myself from everyone, and shut down, deep down, I didn't want to be alone.

The next day, Darry made sure Two-Bit walked home from school with me. I hated having a baby-sitter. We weren't too far from reaching the DX where we had planned to drop by when the shout of a low voice came from behind us.

"Hey grease! Come on greaser! We just want to talk to you!"

By the sound of the footsteps, there were quite a few of them following, right on our heels it felt like.

"Just ignore them" Two-Bit warned.

" Greaser! Hey! Horseboy! Yeah, you! Come on greaser, we just want to talk is all. About your old pal, Johnny!"

I froze. They had no right to talk about Johnny. They had no right to even breathe his name.

"Yeah, Johnny, that was it, wasn't it? Think we'd forget about him? Or  _you?"_

 _"_ I heard Johnny was killed in that fire," another added, "the way I see it, he got what was coming to him."

My face went red hot and I could see Two-Bit clench his fist. He whispered for me to stay cool and ignore it all. He kept trying to tell me to just keep walking. For once, Two-Bit was being logical. We were outnumbered. I didn't care. They had no right.

"What did you just say?" I nearly hissed.

"You heard me, you little grease ball. He killed Bob, he deserved to die."

I didn't waste a beat. I was on him before Two-Bit could have even thought to hold me back. I got a few good punches to his face out before the rest of his gang was on me. They pulled, punched, and kicked, but I just latched on to the Soc's body and kept on top of him.

"Hey!"

It was Two-Bit. We all looked up to see him flashing his blade.

"Get off of him, now." He ordered, closing in on the guys who were tackling me. They obeyed and I resumed to beating the tar out of the Soc underneath me. "Ponyboy." I didn't hear him. I couldn't. All I could hear, all I could see, were my first scrapping against the boys face and blood pumping through my brain, pushed by adrenaline.

"Ponyboy, that's you too! Get off of him. It's over. They're going to leave us alone and we're going to leave them alone and we're all going to walk away from here nice and easy. Pony! Now!"

The boy's face was a bloody mess and much of it poured onto my hands. I looked at my red stained fingers in shock and stood up slowly.  _What was I doing?_  I thought to myself. This wasn't me. I knew it wasn't, but it had to be. It had to. I couldn't let anything or anyone touch me. I had to get smarter. I had to get tougher.

The other Socs came to the pummeled boy's aid, lifted him up, and carried him off, cursing us out and threatening to get even. Two-Bit jammed his knife back in his pocket and shot me a look I had never seen him give before. By now, some of the gang were making their way towards us, probably to make sure we were okay. Fights could get pretty loud around here and normally you just blocked it out, but if you heard your buddy's name or voice or something, you went running.

"What the hell is wrong with you, kid?" Two-Bit asked, shocked, "I've never seen you back away from a necessary fight, but I've never seen you try and get yourself killed. Man, you know I always got my blade on me and that usually works enough to scare 'em off. As much as I love fighting and whooping Socs , sometimes you gotta be smart. Like Darry's always saying, Ponyboy, you gotta use your head."

"What's the big deal?" I nearly shouted, "That jerk was asking for it!"

By now, the gang had reached us, their pace slower because they had seen the Socs leave. Sodapop hurried over to me and gently touched the blood on my shirt and stared at my hands.

"Pony, are you hurt? What happened?" He stammered.

"It's not my blood." I said coldly, trying to hide my inner struggle with that fact.

"Ponyboy, you can't do this," Two-Bit tried to continue, "you can't become, this. Not you."

"Whatever, man." I said, ignoring his pleas. "I thought you were tough. Guess I was wrong."

With that, I walked away. I was glad Darry was at work and hadn't shown up to the rescue. He would have made me turn around and march home and tell him exactly what happened and what was going on with me.  _What was going on with me?_  I certainly couldn't figure it out.


	7. Tossin' and Turnin'

Darry had to work late that night and I was mighty happy about that. Soda was home though and wouldn't stop hounding me about the fight earlier.

"What's going on Pone? This isn't like you. The fights, the grades, something more is up than you let on last night." He pried, in his more comforting yet commanding tone he could muster. There still wasn't much 'command' in it. He was still trying to be like Darry with me sometimes. I didn't like it one bit. He should know that wasn't that way to get me to talk and I made it crystal clear by keeping my trap shut all night except for when I responded that I had homework to do and hid myself in our room, at the desk.

I really did have homework to, lots of it. I just couldn't muster up the will to even start. Besides the fact that I was exhausted, I had come to hate it just as much as I had come to hate school.  _Pointless. Just like everything else. Pointless…_

The walls around me were closing in. The air available was lessening and I was so scared, I could hardly move. I felt like I was in one of those crazy fun houses you see at carnivals that came through town. They scared me when I was little so bad my mom had to come in and carry me out. There was no mother to pick me up and save me this time. My vision became clouded and I batted around my arms wildly as to not run into anything. I stopped dead in my tracks and listened for a moment. There was a sound in the distance but I couldn't quite make it out. I took cautious and slow steps forward. Laughter. But it wasn't just any laughter, it was children, small children, giggling and whispering. It seemed odd that children would be having fun in a place like this. I just wanted out. Everything was red as if lit up by a strange light. The light suddenly grew brighter and brighter until I nearly had to shut my eyes from going blind. Someone turned the fans on too. I could hear it howling. The redness howled at me as I proceeded forward, praying to find the exit soon. My friend was waiting outside for me. He had been too scared to go in himself. He had always hated these things at carnivals. The laughter grew louder as I moved to the next room. Wait, it wasn't laughter. The children were, crying. I could hear it clearly now. There was a whole group of children sobbing and wailing. How odd that it had sounded like laughing. I searched through the haze for them but was met with more empty rooms. Suddenly, the floor underneath me began to shift and rock. The sound of a booming train horn penetrating my ears and I quickly looked around to find the fun house was completely different in an instant. I was surrounded by metallic walls. There was a boy slumped in the corner. I tried to reach for him to wake him up but was held back by some invisible force. I could feel hands on my arms and legs and they soon became visible. The metal walls were gone and so was the rocking. There was new movement though. I was being dragged and pushed. Someone had filled the room with water.  _What a dangerous fun house,_ I thought struggling to reach the surface. The hands were off me now and I swam as fast I could. The red light was slowly coming back and filling the clear water with each upward stroke I made. I continued to kick and flail but no surface ever came. The room of water was endless and I thought I was going to pass out from lack of air when I realized, I was breathing just fine. Parlor tricks and things like this had always astonished me, but this was incredible. The feeling of joy soon vanished as I noticed a figure floating in the water. For being in water, he was burning. Flames covered every inch of his skin and when I swam forward to touch me I backed up in horror. It was my friend.  _What is he doing? He hates these things. They give him nightmares._ The special effects of the fire continued to amaze me until I began to feel the heat radiating from my best friend's body. His skin was cracking and peeling off before my eyes. I wanted to throw up at the sight. His face was boiling like a stew on a hot stove, but he still did not cry out of help or even flinch in pain. Suddenly, he swam in front of my face screamed.

"You went in first! You did this!"

I spun around to get away from him when I felt my shoulders grabbed by someone else. It was a firm but familiar grip and right as they touched me and I saw their face, I could no longer breathe in the water. I let in a giant gulp of water with a scream.


	8. Runaway

"Dallas!" I covered my mouth as soon as the scream passed my lips and I realized I was back at my desk.

Hands touched my shoulders and I leapt off of the chair with a sudden yelp.

"Don't touch me!" I hollered.

"Whoa, easy Pony" I heard a different familiar voice say soothingly.

I turned around cautiously, afraid of what I would see this time. I let out a sigh when Sodapop came into view, standing behind my chair. I spun the chair around completely to face him and he plopped on the bed, still facing me.

"What'd you dream about?" He asked, knowing I wouldn't reply.

"Rainbows and gumdrops" I answered sarcastically, followed by a heavy yawn.

I checked the time, only 8pm.  _How did I fall asleep so fast?_  I looked down at my papers to find none of my work done.

"Hard at work I see," Soda joked, glancing over my shoulder.

"Would you just lay off?" I yelled, jumping up from my chair, "Who are you, Darry?"

Soda was shocked. So was I. We never hollered at each other like that, never.

"Take it easy, baby, I –"

"And you can stop calling me that! Everyone already thinks I am and treats me like a baby!"

"Ponyboy, what's going on? Talk to me."

"Why does everyone want to talk? Just leave me the hell alone!"

I bolted out of the room, leaving a stunned Soda on the bed. I hardly ever swore, especially at Soda. I knew it wouldn't be long before he would come after me so I just kept running. The lot would be too easy to find me in and hiding out at one of the gang's houses was no use. Steve would rat me out in an instant because of his friendship with Soda, but more because he wouldn't be able to stand me being around. Two-Bit wouldn't care but his mom sure would and would have Darry on the phone in no time. My mind was racing, listing off all the places I knew of.  _Shepherds. Of course!_ The Shepherd gang lived in a different neighborhood, but was still in running distance. Tim wouldn't be too happy with me and wouldn't want to be the one to face Darry after aiding in my running away for the night, but Curly wouldn't care. Curly and I weren't exactly friends but we didn't hate each other or anything. I had a pack of cigs on me that I could easily bribe Curly with, even though I hated to let them go. Besides, the entire gang kind of admired me for being "the friend of the kid who killed the Soc". I needed a gang that was tough. Not one that was going to treat you like a kid or pull you away from a fight.

I was going to become a member of the Shepherd gang.


	9. Dazed and Confussed

The Shepherds had a reputation in our town. Dally's record was kid stuff compared to some of the members, even some of the younger ones. You wouldn't find any kids who didn't drink in their group, like Sodapop, and you definitely wouldn't find any liked school or did as well as me in either.  _No, not anymore. I hate school. I hate it._

I could hear the gang's hooting and hollering long before I reached the front door. There was heavy laughter and loud talking. It reminded me somewhat of nights at my place, back when the whole gang was around, we could get pretty noisy. It didn't matter though. They were all the kids' of our neighbors so it wasn't like someone was going to call the cops or anything. Darry would usually put a stop to it if it got too rowdy or late anyway. He was always ruining our fun, my fun. Not anymore.

A thick wave of smoke hit my eyes before I could look up to see who had answered the door. As I was adjusting my eyes, my nose was hit as well, with the distinct smells of alcohol and vomit. I hid a cough and squinted to make out the figure hovering over me.

"What the hell are you doing here kid, isn't it past your bedtime?" It was Tim Shepherd, Dally's old best pal and worst enemy.

"No," I said defensively and a little too quickly. I had to be tough or he would send me packing. "What, are you going to let me freeze to death out here or are you going to move over and let me join the party already?"

I thought I was suicidal. No one talked to any member of the Shepherd gang like that, especially not Tim, unless you wanted to get your block clear knocked off. I paused, waiting for a punch to the nose, slap to the face, anything.  _Nothing. I'm alive?_ Tim looked shocked, but proud in his own demented way.

"Come on in" I jammed my hands in my pockets, thinking I was pretty tuff right then right before Tim caught my shoulder, "but if Darry catches wind of this, I never knew you were here, got it kid?"

I nodded, hiding the fact that my skin was crawling with fear of what he might do to me, or what Darry would do to him.

"Hey, Ponyboy," I heard a familiar voice shout and recognized Curly as he made his way to me through the mess of people, "thought you'd be doing homework or reading a book. What are you doing here?"

"Just came to have some fun, is that a crime?" Curly mimicked the shocked look that his brother had given me only moments before but then went back to his non-caring, fun-loving self.

"Sounds good to me. Any of your gang with ya or you flying solo?"

"Why does everyone keep acting like I'm some damn little kid! I don't need no babysitter!"

"Alright, alright, calm down. Jeez. I was just asking a question. You don't have to get all worked up about it. Come on, man, have a few drinks, they'll loosen you up real good."

I cupped my hand around the bottle and stroked the neck nervously.  _What am I doing?_  I had only tried the stuff once, and never again.

Mom and dad had forbidden it in our house. Dad drank once in awhile, but it was only at parties or something, never at home. They said that alcohol had no place with children. After they died, I was pretty messed up. One day I was hanging out with Dallas and Johnny and Dal offered me some after noting my depressed silence the whole time. I took only a sip before Darry had come in and yanked the drink out of my hands. I got a good hollering at and Soda was real worried and watchful of me for a few days. Dally, I think, had it the worst. Darry really laid into for giving alcohol to a minor, especially a minor that was his kid brother. He had a few bruises the next time I had seen him and I had apologized probably a zillion times. I didn't want him thinking it was all my fault and taking a few swings at me for revenge or anything. Surprisingly, Dallas had just laughed and told me he had had a lot worse done to him by people who were a lot closer to him.

I shook the images aside as the memories of my dead friends pushed me over the edge. I tipped the bottle up and took a long swig. The taste was awful, the aftertaste even worse. I just kept going. The smooth liquid went down so easily and seemed to be welcomed by my insides that yearned for more with every drink. I had knocked down more bottles than I could remember when Tim found me, falling over myself, in the backyard. I didn't know what was happening to me. The mix of emotions swirled inside me, wanting to burst loose.

"I think you better head home now. Darry is going to kick my head in for letting you get drunk."

"Stop it!" I screamed. "Stop it, stop it, stop it! I'm not, I'm not a baby! I'm fine." I was stumbling and mad and crying and mad because I was crying.

"Yeah, you sure look like it, kid."

"I told you! I'm not a kid!"

"Okay, yeah, sure. Let's get you home now."

"No!" I was almost hysterical now. "I'm never going back there! I'm never, I'm never going back anywhere. I hate it there. I hate it everywhere. I hate. It. I hate it. Okay?"

"Calm down,"

"Don't you tell me to calm down, Dally!"

We both froze, despite me letting out a small, uncontrolled laugh. I couldn't have noticed it then, but looking back, I could have sworn I saw hurt in Tim's eyes. Tim Shepherd never got hurt, never cared about anything except maybe his family, maybe, and his car. But I could've sworn I almost saw a tear fight to form itself.

"Ponyboy,"

"No, no, no. I know what you're going to say, Dal. You always say it. 'It was my fault'. Johnny says it all the time too, in my head. But not in my head, like it's real, 'cause you're real, but you're not, really. Just don't say it this time, okay? I get it! I get it! You're dead, and that's on me, I get that. Now just, just, go away."

Tim was awful scared, which is saying something, but was hiding it pretty well. He grabbed for my arm, which in my eyes was burning something fierce. Strange though, I couldn't feel any pain.

"No, let go of me! You have to go help Johnny. That's how it works, that's how it happens. You go help Johnny and then he dies, and then, and then, you die. That's how it happens. Let go of me."

By that time Tim had already backed away in horror. Everything was fuzzy and I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or awake. The ground was moving and when I lifted my hand, it shook too. I laughed pretty hard at that having no idea why. Within seconds, my hard laughter turned to sobs. I don't think Tim knew what to do with a crying kid. I saw him leave me to be alone and figured it was just like Dallas to walk away from me. He walked away from me before, right into the burning church. He had walked away from me in the hospital after Johnny died too. He kept walking away from me.  _Me. It was me. It was all on me._


	10. Crying

I woke up the following day, or at least what I thought and hoped was the following day, in a complete daze. The world around me was a vague, foggy picture as I came to and I couldn't place where I was or when it was. My eyes were heavy like when I stayed up all night reading or studying. I thought maybe I had gotten sick or something. A percussion band was having a recital in my head, the large gong placed right against my temple. My lips were bone dry and cracking. I went to lick them so they would stop their dang throbbing when I tasted something funny. Before I could place the for some reason familiar taste, my body jerked up out of the bed I hadn't realized I was in and found its way to the closest bathroom. My body was so used to the event that just had occurred, I assumed that I had done this now a time or two or a lot more. I leaned over the toilet and let the last bits of vomit drip from my open mouth. The sight of what had just come out of me made we want to repeat the process over again. Before I had finished that thought, I was. This time it emptied the contents of my stomach, letting a few dry heaves follow. All the commotion made the band play louder and more vigorously inside my skull and I fell backwards onto the tile, leaning against the bathroom wall for support. I didn't want to move, I didn't want to breathe.

"Morning sunshine" I heard a voice say, peeking their head through the door. "How would you like a greasy fried egg sandwich for breakfast, kid?"

The image caused another dry heave.

"Lay off, Two-Bit" Soda said, entering and kneeling beside me.

 _Home?_  Somehow I was at my house, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out how or why, and why Darry wasn't in here beating the tar out of me for last night.

"I'm just congratulating the kid on his first hangover is all; I am the expert after all."

"That's about the only thing you're an expert at" Darry joked, joining us, sounding a bit too serious for sarcasm.

Two-Bit picked up on the cue and turned and walked away.

"How are you feeling?" Soda asked quietly, taking my face in his hand and giving me a good look over.

"I'm fine." I mumbled, turning my head sharply away from him.

"Yeah, you sure look like it."

Tim's voice cut through my mind.  _"Yeah, you sure look like it, kid."_

I sat there, trying desperately to remember what I had said and wondering like hell why Darry wasn't skinning me, let alone yelling.

I glanced up to find him,  _no way_ , crying.


	11. Yesterday

It was as if part of him had died seeing me like that. He didn't shout or curse or shove me. He just stood there, silently crying. It was quite the scene really. I was hunched over, smelling and tasting vomit. Soda was crouching right next to me, with a look on his face I had never seen. And then there was Darry, hard as a rock, "nothing can break me", Darryl, bawling like a small child.

"Do you remember anything, Ponyboy?" Soda asked, breaking the silence and tension.

I shook my head. Bits and pieces floated around in my head. I knew I had talked to Tim, or was it Dally in a dream?

"Tim called us. You were out of your mind drunk. You wouldn't let any of us touch you, especially Tim. You, you kept calling him Dallas and I really think you believed he was him. You were shaking and crying one moment and then mad as hell the next and then back to shivering and sobbing. In your mad phases, it was like you were some wild animal. You scared us all something awful, Pony. I thought you'd run away or something, but then when we got the call." He was breaking into tears too. "You have to stop this Ponyboy. You've just got to. Please. Please."

I just sat there, dumbfounded. I didn't know what to do or say. All I knew what that all this confusion and mixed feelings were making my headache even worse and I couldn't take it anymore. Watching my brothers weeping was breaking my heart and I couldn't let that happen. I turned away from them. I knew if I saw Sodapop's tears, I wouldn't be able to hold it all in anymore and I had to keep it in.  _You_   _get tough and you don't get hurt. You look out for yourself and nothin' can touch you…_

"Just talk to us, kid" Darry said through coughs as he pulled himself together and pulled me out of my daze.

"Stop calling me that!" I leapt up and my head spun from dizziness. My feet went loose from underneath me and Soda caught me under the arms before I fell. I immediately pulled away from him. "Look, you guys care about me, great, good for you, but just stop. I don't, so don't waste your time."

"You don't what, Pony? You don't care about yourself? Don't talk like that." Soda was trying to be comforting but it was just making me more and more livid.

"Don't tell me what to do! Both of you, just stop!"

I bolted out the bathroom door, past Darry before he could even register what had just happened. I tripped over Steve who was sitting on the living floor. He yelled something, but I didn't hear it. I saw Two-Bit form words as I passed him, but no sound reached my ears. All I could hear was the beating of my heart, and the pounding of the migraine that just wouldn't leave me.


	12. Bad Moon Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N The next 7 or so chapters take place all in the same day, just so you know. This one begins with Ponyboy at school...where will he by the end of this very eventful day?

_"I see the bad moon rising. I see trouble on the way...Don't go around tonight. Well, it's bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise."_

I found Curly right where I expected him to be. He rarely showed up for school, and if he did it was normally to pick up girls or beat up Socs or nerds. Him and a couple other members of the gang his age were leaning against the schoolyard fence having a smoke. At first, teachers had tried to get them to stop smoking on school grounds but those Shepherds' had thicker heads than steel and were more stubborn than donkeys. I wandered up to them, trying to look cool and hoping they hadn't seen my embarrass myself the night before.

"Hey Curtis" Curly spoke first.

"Hey Curly" I replied smoothly.

"Heard you got pretty blitzed last night at my place"

 _Great._ I waited for the laughter to start.

"You're okay, Pony."

And just like that, I was in with them.

"Man, this place is such a drag. Not even any cute broads today. Let's go find some real action."

The group turned and started walking away. Curly turned to me, "Well, you coming or what?"

I hesitated for only a split second and then jogged up to join them. I had no clue where we were going or what we were about to do, but I didn't care. I was free. Free from caring, from worrying, from everything. We were walking for quite some time and I didn't want to overstep my bounds as the newbie but was getting awful curious.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." One of the boys replied with a snicker.

We stopped in a desolate alley. Even the nearby stores seemed deserted.

"What's going on?" I asked, masking the nervousness I felt.

"Well, you want to be part of the gang, don't you?" I nodded. "Well, to every gang there's well, an initiation, you might call it."

"What do you – "

Before I could finish my sentence, the entire group of friends, except Curly, was on top of me. Two of them pinned me to the brick wall while the other slugged away at my chest and stomach. After a couple of minutes went by, a tear formed and slid down my cheek. Immediately, the boy's hand collided with my face.

"Don't you cry." Curly commanded. "Hoods don't cry. You cry, you break. You break, we break you, get it?" I didn't and I think Curly sensed it and continued. "We beat you, so you don't break. We beat you first, we break you first, so they can't break you later."

I still didn't make much sense to me. Loyalty bred out of punches and blood? Our gang was loyal because we loved each other and that was enough.  _No. Not love. Love gets you hurt. Love gets you killed. No, this is better._


	13. Tear It Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The flashback at the end of this chapter is actual right from the book, word for word.

I felt as if a load of bricks had been dropped onto me from a high building. The Shepherd guys had laid into me something fierce. I was achy and pulsing all over. I could feel sections of my body slowly expanding and imagined they would be black and blue soon enough. My jaw felt as if I had bitten into a block of ice at full force. Don't ask how I knew how that felt. Well, now you're going to think I'm crazy. Let me just give you one word, Sodapop. Anyway, I was still feeling pretty tore up from the initiation beating, but the adventure was far from over.

Curly stopped by a small building that looked to almost be abandon, except for the small, dirty, flashing neon sign that read, "Jerry's". When he came back out with drinks in hand, none of us questioned it and I took one willingly and without pause. I instantly remembered the previous night with the first sip, but then downed more hoping it would eventually block it out. This drink, this alcohol, made things okay. It made me feel, okay. I didn't care what it would do to me later, that feeling was worth it. That feeling, was worth anything.

As I was still recovering from my beating, I suddenly realized we were slowly heading towards The Way Out. Only Socs went to this diner. Greasers went to The Dingo or Jay's, but definitely not here. Walking in there was a death wish for any of us and we were headed straight for it. I shivered, but concealed it, not desiring another "initiation". Finally, I had to ask.

"What are we doing here?"

"Don't wet your pants, Curtis" Curly chuckled. "There's a guy I know who comes here for lunch every day, a Soc, his dad owns the place."

"What about him?" I asked

"What about him?" One of the guys repeated, annoyed. "He's a Soc, that's enough. Besides, me and my buddy here beat him and his Soc pal in a drag race the other day and they haven't paid up."

"And?" I asked, feeling stupid.

" _And_ , we're here to teach him a lesson."

With that, the boys flipped out their blades and surrounded a dark blue Corvair in the parking lot.

"You got a blade, kid?" One of them questioned me.

I nodded and pulled out the knife I had started carrying with me ever since I returned from Windrixville.

"Well, then use it." He sounded irritated and I obeyed.

We each took a tire and dug our knives deep into the rubber. I twisted the handle hard and slid it all the way across the length of the tire. Before I was done, I could hear the distinct sound of scratching metal and looked up to see Curly carving lines into the door. I joined in. This was actually fun. I wasn't worried that I was doing something wrong or something dangerous.

I should have been.

"Hey!"

My blood ran cold. We were deep in Soc territory. There was nowhere to run.

"Get the hell away from my car you hoods!"

We all glanced up. The others were acting cool and I was desperately trying to. The Soc and a few friends made their way for us.

"Not so fast." Curly ordered in a harsh voice, pointing his blade in the direction of the Socs.

The rest of us followed his actions.

My brain shot back to the grocery store trip with Two-Bit and Steve. It was where this had all began…

_I was sitting on the fender of Steve's car, smoking and drinking a Pepsi while he and Two-Bit were inside talking to some girls, when a car drove up and three Socs got out. I just sat there and looked at them and took another swallow of the Pepsi. I wasn't scared. It was the oddest feeling in the world. I didn't feel anything – scared, mad, or anything. Just zero._

I had loved that feeling.

_"You're the guy that killed Bob Sheldon," one of them said. "And he was a friend of ours. We don't like nobody killing our friends, especially greasers"_

_Big deal. I busted the end off my bottle and held on to the neck and tossed away my cigarette…I started towards them, holding the bottle the way Tim Shepherd holds a switch – out and away from myself, in a loose but firm hold._

I held mine just as I had held the bottle then, just as I had learned from watching Tim and then, waited.


	14. Only the Strong Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow, I wrote incredibly short chapters back then!

I thought for sure I was done for. Some of the Socs drew switches too. They edged towards us, backing us to the entrance of the parking lot. It was then that I heard the sharp screech of breaks behind me and Curly starting to laugh. It was a beat up old piece of junk, but it looked beautiful as the rest of the gang pilled into the backseat. The door slammed tight as I reached it.

"Initiation, part two." Curly yelled through the window. "Survive."

The vehicle sped off and I spun around to see the Socs nearly right on top of me. There was no time to think. I ducked an arm and began sprinting as fast as my legs would allow. I could hear some of the Socs clopping along close behind me and other jumping in their cars, engines blazing.  _Great._ I was one of the fastest kids in school and could out run just about any Soc, but there was no beating a car. I had failed initiation.  _What the hell? I am going to die and all I can think about is not getting into the Shepherd gang._  No one in my old gang would have ever pulled a stunt like this. We pulled pranks and got each other in trouble or beat up, but nothing this bad. We were hoods, yeah, but we were loyal. Images of my old friends flashed through my mind and I tried hard to push them out, to push the feelings out.

I felt like I had been running forever. There was an alley up on my right.  _Hope. Thank God._ I ducked into it, dodging garbage bags. I recognized the street ahead and figured all I had to do was make a left, round the corner, and hide out at the DX for awhile. I didn't want to see my friends and brothers' faces, but it was that or death.

BAM.

_No. No, no, no, no._

I had forgotten. I had forgotten about the fence. Sometimes I really didn't use my head. It was pretty good at climbing too but it was awfully high and old. I leapt up as high as I could just as I felt a hand grip my leg. I was on the concrete in a second, my face scratching along the fence as I fell. I felt the liquid run down my face and told myself to get used to it for the next few minutes as these Socs killed me. One tugged at my hair, which I thought was a pretty sissy and pretty infuriating move. I decked him a good one on his left cheek. That just made him grab more of my hair. They picked me off the ground and pinned me against the fencing. I was still sore from my previous beating and could barely fight back. I could taste and smell iron all over.

Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer and closer by the second.

"Beat it guys! It's the fuzz!"

I couldn't tell who had yelled it but I was sure glad. They all dropped me to the cold, blood-stained ground and scattered.  _The police. Crap._ It all hadn't fully registered in my hand why they had taken off until that second. I used what was left of my strength to climb over the fence and book it to the DX. I froze and tried to turn around when I saw two familiar figures spotting and coming towards me.


	15. The End

"Hold it right there, Ponyboy Curtis!"

I paused. It was Darry, the cops, or a group of blood thirsty Socs. I sighed and stayed still, with my back to my brothers so they couldn't see the evidence of the beatings.

"We have been looking for you everywhere. Do you have any idea what my boss will do to me for missing work, and Soda's too? I don't know what's eating you but you better man up and deal with it kiddo! We tried to talk to you, to be nice, but now I have half a mind to beat the sense into you with my bare hands. This is going to end, now!"

He stopped when he reached where I stood and had me turned around, hands on my shoulders, ready to yell some more. His facial expression changed instantly and Soda hurried to my side.

"Not again." Soda said solemnly.

"Who did this?" Darry asked, shaking me like usual, "Was it those same guys again? I'll pound them!"

"No" I managed to whimper out without letting the floodgates behind my eyes open. "It was, just, nevermind. It doesn't matter."

 _Nothing matters._  That feeling of "zero" washed over me yet again and I felt myself slip away from reality. Nothing mattered. Nothing made a difference. Nothing made sense.  _My fault_. _It was all my fault. I killed my friends. I upset my brothers. I made them miss work. I couldn't cut it as a member of the Shepherd gang for less than a few hours. I let everyone down._  My brain hurt from all the thoughts spinning around in it. The guilt, shame, regret, hatred, anger, hurt. I just wanted it all to stop.

I wanted it all, my life, to end.

I backed out of Darry's tight grip, surprised at myself for being able to do so with how weak I was feeling. Tears welled up and I could keep the gates closed any longer. The stinging water droplets mixed with blood and I wiped them away as I turned back around.

"Don't you turn away from me boy!"

I didn't give him the time to grab hold of me. I just ran. I don't know how my legs still managed to do so, but I did, and fast. I heard the faint sound of Soda shouting my name through tears and the rev of Darry's truck engine.

Darry had been right. This was going to end, now.


	16. Endless Sleep

I don't know how long I ran for, though to me it felt like a lifetime. Memories began pulsing through my brain like electric shocks. I could see Dally and Johnny's faces. I could see Bob Sheldon lying, motionless in his own pool of blood. I could feel the cold water of the fountain in the lot against my skin, the heat of the church fire flames. The children's voices were screaming in my head so loud it hurt to think.

I suddenly realized I was at the train tracks. I couldn't even remember the route I had taken because of all the thoughts crammed inside my head. I did that a lot, especially on long waits or trips. I would think about things or memories or watch a movie I had seen or even create one in my head. I remember once my parents took me and brothers out of town to visit a distant family member or something. It was a long ride and my brothers got quite antsy and riled up, especially Soda who couldn't even sit still for a class period. I was silent the whole way though. I had developed an entire story on that trip about a man in outer space who played baseball with the stars. Meteors were grand-slams, of course. When we arrived at our destination, everyone had piled out of the car, except me.

"Hurry up, Ponyboy," Darry had said, poking his head back in the car, "we ain't got all day."

"Huh?" He had snapped me out of my world too fast.

"We're here." He stated, slightly annoyed.

"Where?"

I honestly couldn't remember where we had been heading and had completely forgotten I was even in the car. That day, I told my mom about the spaceman and his adventures.

"Sweetie, you have your head in the clouds so much you are going to start catching birds." My mom stated in a loving manner, letting out a small laugh.

"Or get hit by a plane" Sodapop piped in.

I had swatted at him playfully and before we knew it, us three brothers were in a pile on the ground, wrestling and tickling each other.

_Darn it. There I go again._ My brothers' faces flashed in my mind again and again. I saw Darry holding me down as Sodapop tickled me something fierce.  _No._ I had to push it away. I had to push it all away. It was too late though. The memories of my brothers came flooding in, whether I wanted them to or not.

_"Hey Pone, how was school?"_

_"Pony, you feeling alright?"_

_"They ain't gonna hurt you no more."_

_"Dog pile! Let's get him!"_

_"Under the arms! Under the arms!"_

_"Lay off, Two-Bit"_

_"Pin him down Darry! We'll make him wet his pants from laughing!"_

_"They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?"_

_"I thought we lost you like we did mom and dad."_

_"Sure, little buddy, we ain't gonna fight no more." The three of us all pulled into a hug right there in the lot, all of us crying like babies. That was, until Soda claimed he was cold. It was nice not to be the one who had forgotten a jacket for a change. We all raced back to house, laughing the entire way there._

_"You're an okay kid, Pony."_

_"You're crazy, Soda, out of your mind."_

_"You're both nuts."_

_"Shoot, kid," Soda said, pulling my shoulder so I would face him, "you know you ain't got to hide that from me. Come on, look at your brother now." I rolled over, wiping what I hoped were the last bits of water from my eyes. "Another nightmare, baby?" Soda asked in his most gentle and caring voice. I nodded. "They're getting worse, aren't they?"_

_"You have to stop this, Ponyboy."_

I was going to stop it. I was going to stop all of it. The train would come. It wouldn't stop, but I would. My life would. The pain would.

_"Ponyboy, we love you."_

_"He's getting mighty big to be carried."_

_"He cried every night that week you were gone."_

In an instant it was like my brain flipped a switch. Second thoughts now entered the chaos that was my mind. As I was about to step off the tracks, I found I couldn't move. A blinding light burned itself into me and a thunderous horn blared. I looked up to see death, heading full speed towards me. I was paralyzed with fear.

_This is it. I'm going to die._


	17. Reach Out, I'll Be There

I felt a sudden and sharp push against my body. After a few seconds, I wondered why I was still alive and why being hit by a train head on didn't hurt as I imagined it would. Dumbfounded, I opened my eyes to find myself face down in the grass, the train rushing past me, a few feet away. A body laid on top of me and my breathe was haggard from the pressure and the near-death experience. The body rolled off of me and I released a large gasp.

"What the hell are you thinking?"

It was Darry. Of course it was Darry. My brothers were always trying to protect me, to save me, even when I didn't want to be.

I didn't respond. I couldn't.

Darry moved towards me and grabbed my shoulders hard. It was then that I saw Sodapop standing above me, water raining from his eyes to the grass. He dropped to his knees next to me and ran his fingers through my hair. That did it. I slumped my shoulders and began bawling like a baby. I could no longer fight it, no longer hold it in.

"Ponyboy" Soda managed through his tears, "talk to us, please. Let us help."

"No. I, I can't. You wouldn't understand."

"Then help us to!" Darry shouted, desperate but still with his usual sternness

I leapt up.

"Fine! You want to know so bad, then fine!"

My brothers both froze, staring wide-eyed. I had screamed at the top of my lungs and almost think most of the neighborhood probably heard.

"I killed three people, okay? Three! I killed them!"

We were all deathly silent. My brothers' expressions were that of utter horror. Soda's body was shaking, along with mine. I don't think Darry could have moved if he had wanted to. The silence seemed to last for days, but no one could bring themselves to speak.

"Wha – How?" Soda choked out. "Who?"

"Who?"  _How could they not know?_ "A Soc, my best friend, and my best friend's hero! Do I need to draw you a picture?"

"Oh," Darry's voice was the size of a mouse, "I understand."

"No! No you don't! You couldn't! You can't! Don't you get it? It's all my fault!  _I'm_ the one who ran off in the middle of the night!  _I'm_ the one who Johnny killed that Soc, Bob, to save! We were the ones smoking in that old church, so it caught on fire!  _I'm_ the one who ran in first!  _I'm_ the one who just let Dallas walk out of that hospital!  _I'm_ the reason they're dead! All of them, me! Johnny once asked me how I would like to live with killing that Soc boy? Well, I live with killing him and my friends, and I can't no more! I just can't! And neither of you are gonna stop me, ya hear? I'm doing this! I have to! I – "

"I pushed you." Darry cut in, low and serious.

Soda and I exchanged looks of confusion.

"I pushed you. You were just defending Soda, and I shoved you. That's why you ran, why those Socs found you why, why, why it all happened."

"Darry, it ain't your fault" I started.

"And it ain't yours either! You were gone a week. A week! We thought you were dead and I only had myself to blame! And then when, when everything - I beat myself up every day over and over for it, for all of it. I don't understand, huh? It's all you ever think about, right? You think shutting yourself off, disconnecting from everyone, everything, every feeling, will make the pain and guilt go away. I nearly made your brother here go nuts because I wouldn't talk for days! You shut yourself off. But it doesn't work. Nothing does. So you decide to do the one thing left that you can think of to make it all stop, the one thing you think you deserve. I told Tim I would rip him apart if he ever told anyone this, but he had to wrestle me,  _wrestle me_ , to get a gun out of my hands. A gun I had pointed at my head!"

"Darry, I didn't – " He wouldn't let me speak.

"No, you didn't. Neither did I. You remember me telling you how Two-Bit came blubbering over about you having a fever before the rumble. He thought it was his fault you got so sick. During the trial, Cherry, Cherry of all people, said that she felt it was partially her fault for everything. Randy befriended you and has done everything he can to make it up to you, because he felt responsible. Steve just wanted to bash every single Soc's head in, no matter who it was, 'cause he blamed them all. Don't you get it? We all played a part in what happened, all of us! It's not my fault, it's not the Socs fault, and it is  _not_ your fault! It ain't nobody's. It's just life, Ponyboy. Life. And if you take yours, you will be hurting the people closest to you, the same very thing that is eating you alive! You think Johnny would want you standing on some tracks, waiting to be run over by some train? Damn it, kid, we love you,  _I_  love you. I'm not telling you that if you don't do this that things will magically get better right away. In fact, they might even get harder. But you strap in, head held high, and take the next blow. Life is just that, life. Bad things happen, a lot, things you can't see or control. But, this? This is something you can control. Now, you can come home with us or you can get back on those tracks. Which one is it going to be?"


	18. The Tracks of My Tears

I couldn't move. I could hardly breathe. Wet droplets trickled down my face without my permission or noticing. I just stood there, motionless, taking in everything my oldest brother had just said, more like, exploded. It wasn't possible. It couldn't have been. Darry was our superman. He always had it together, or so I thought. He was one of the strongest people I knew and there he was, revealing his biggest ever weakest moment to me.  _Darry, weak? Impossible._ My mind was still rejecting the idea. It fought to block out the images of Darry, my brother Darry, holding a loaded heater to his own head. It fought to block out the fact that Darry was right, that it wasn't my fault.

_Yes, yes it is. It's your fault. All of it. Darry was suicidal because you ran away. You did that to him. You hurt him like you hurt everyone else. No! It wasn't my fault. It couldn't be. Darry said so. It's life. Just life. Not my fault._

The inner struggle was tearing me apart; all the voices, all the images, screaming inside my mind. I felt as if my head was going to erupt, spewing these thoughts and visuals out for everyone to see. I clamped my hands against my head, attempting to hold it all inside.

A hand on my shoulder hurled me back to reality. Darry stood in front of me, starting directly into my eyes. I flinched. Usually, when he looked me dead in the eye I was in serious trouble, like when I stayed out late in the lot with Johnny, or something awful had just happened, like when he told me mom and dad were dead.

"It's okay" His voice was soft, but affirming, as if he could hear and understanding the chaos going on inside my brain.

Without warning, he pulled me into him and wrapped his arms tight around my shoulders in an embrace. That act, that firm hug, finally did it. I finally stopped fighting. I finally stopped pretending. I finally let the thick walls that had been surrounding me come crashing down. My body shook vigorously and Darry's shirt grew more drenched by the second as I dug my face deeper into it.

"Shh" He whispered in my ear with the most soothing voice I had ever heard him possess, "it's okay, little buddy. I'm here. I got you. I got you. It's all going to be okay."

I heard a faint whimper from behind me and felt Soda's gentle hand on my head. The three of us stayed like that for God knows how long. I never wanted either of them to let go.

We hadn't hugged like that since Soda had run out of the house that night he got his letter back from Sandy. We had hugged a lot back then; when we saw each other in the hospital after the fire, when the judge let me and Soda stay with Darry. Soda used to wrap his arms around me in bed when I had nightmares. Darry had even come in and held me while I was sick. I had forgotten how much I missed that, missed them. No matter how much of a sissy this makes me, I never wanted that moment to end.

"Aww, well isn't that cute."

A harsh, mocking, and familiar voice pulled me out of my dream of wanting the embrace to last forever. The three of us separated hurriedly and turned to face the same group of Socs that had pounded me before for the slashed tires.

"You didn't think we would just let you go, did you?" One of them sneered.

"Look," I stepped forward, having more courage than I expected, "I'm sorry. It was a mistake. We don't want any trouble. You already got your revenge before and I have the bruises to prove it."

"I believe we were interrupted earlier," another one snapped, "and we don't think you've fully learned your lesson or had quite enough."

"I believe, he has." Darry said in his deep and threatening voice that he could turn on like a switch, and stepping in front of me.

"You heard him," Soda added, following Darry's actions, "we don't want any trouble, but we will give it to you if you don't leave, now."

"This ain't about you two clowns," the boy, the one whose car we had messed up, finally spoke up, "we just want the kid."

" _The kid_ is our brother," Darry boomed "and we're not going anywhere. Now beat it, before I beat your skulls in."

Two of the four boys whipped out their blades. I slid my hand in my back pocket to grab mine as well, but was greeted with emptiness. I pressed my hands against my back and front pockets only to find my pack of Kools. I glanced around in the grass. It was almost dark by then and I prayed for the moonlight to shine off of it. I imagined myself leaping into a summersault, plucking my switch out of the grass as I rolled, and popping up just in front of one of the Socs without a knife. I would put it to his neck and order the others to drop their blades and back away. I would save the day. Nothing bad would happen on my account again. It couldn't. I couldn't handle it to.

Unfortunately, the dark blades of grass hid my only weapon and hope somewhere I couldn't find. I looked up to my brothers. Neither of them had knives in their hands.  _Crap._ Soda had been at work and wasn't allowed to have one with him there ever since it had slid out and dug into the expensive upholstery of some rich customer. Darry never really needed one, his fists and rage were more dangerous than any switch. Still, I longed for mine, or any weapon for that matter. My eyes danced around searching for something, anything. We greasers learned at an early age that any object can be a weapon. From sticks to stones to bottles to books and more, I had used them all when necessary. This time there was nothing but a few leaves.

My search for a weapon came to halt as one of the blade-carrying Socs charged forward for my brothers.

The fight was on.

 


	19. The Sounds of Silence

As I traded giving and receiving blows with one of the Socs, I silently wondered how many times I could get creamed in one day. My body still ached and panged from the first two beatings and I was on the verge of being an emotional wreck. With my physical, mental, and emotional states against me, I did not have good odds to win. As I was slightly relieved that this fight was only one on one, compared to the previous two jumpings of the day, the fact that the kid had a blade still frightened me. It was strange. Only moments ago I had been ready to end everything and now I was battling for my life like I never had before. I had been in fights before, been jumped, and even pulled my fair weight in a few rumbles, but this was different. Something inside of me had changed. I had connected with something inside myself I had never before and was not going to lose that now. I had connected with my brothers in a way I had never done before and was not going to lose them now either.

The memories that had plagued me before and nearly drove me mad, now fueled me. The image of them rushing to my aid after being beaten, motivated my first punch. Their strong embrace around me as I sobbed hurled the next kick into motion. I felt Soda's hand running through my hair after I had thrashed all night from a nightmare as I blocked another attempted hit. I was fighting for me. I was fighting for them. I was fighting, for life.

Darry had taken on two of them, no surprise there. One of his opponents was the other boy with a blade. Darry did a good job of keeping him at a safe distance. He angled his body movements to keep the unarmed Soc in between him and the one with the blade. If the kid were to use his weapon, he would only stab his own friend. It was almost like watching a graceful dancer. That was the thing about my big brother though; he was as tough as an ox but as graceful as a dove. You put the two together and you got one skilled fighter.

Soda was faring well too, as expected. He got pretty steamed when people threatened his brothers, especially me. He was also usually one of the first to get to me if I was being jumped, if not first then second after Darry. If I would come home after getting beaten up or even picked on at school, Darry would have to cool Soda down and sometimes even  _hold_ him down. One time, some Super Soc had me doing all his homework for him, on penalty of a severe beating if I didn't. I was younger and not too good at standing up for myself in those kind of situations yet. Sodapop noticed I was working a lot longer on my school work and kept bugging me for the longest time until he finally saw that I had duplicates of the same assignments. This was when Soda was still in school with me so the next day he gave the kid a pretty big piece of his mind. The Soc wasn't too happy and decided to avert the attention to me. He created some awful ryhme song about me being a greaser and stupid. He also made fun that my big brother had to fight for me. I got pretty heated so I charged him in the schoolyard as he was heading into another verse. Well, he had a lot of friends and a lot of friends that didn't like me for jumping at him. I was getting pretty bloody until Soda showed up. He had heard the rumors and word of the song spreading and was coming to check on me when he saw it. He was so fumed that two large teachers had to peel him off the head Soc and got suspended. Of course, the other kids got no punishment. It was one thing that he had come to my rescue but it was another that he had lied to keep me out of trouble too, saying that he started the fight, not me. If it wasn't for him that day I probably would have gotten the tar beat out of me along with a hefty suspension. But, that was Sodapop, always protecting me, always protecting his family.

He had the guy on his back in the grass in no time and was delivering swift and steady punches to his face and chest. I, on the other hand, was not as skilled as my older brothers. I ducked and flailed my body out of the way as my opponent jabbed his knife straight at my torso. I could see flashing glimpses of the metal charging towards me, taking me back to the little boy who let Socs make me do their homework. I scared something fierce. The last time I had been in a fight that involved a blade, Johnny had killed a Soc.

_Johnny._

In a burst of courage and unknown strength, I hunched over just as he was withdrawing the blade to his side and lunged forward, knocking the boy to the ground. The sharp sensation of metal against skin filled my body and I prayed that I had not made a fatal mistake in my new offensive fighting attitude. It stung where the blade had penetrated my skin and I winced in pain. For a moment, the world went hazy and I glanced up through the fog to see my brothers, struggling for their very lives as well. The darkness of night around me impaired my vision and I could no longer tell who was fighting whom. I heard a low and skin crawling howl pierce the sky and watched as one of the fighters crumpled to the ground below them, motionless. I squinted to make out the silhouette, praying, begging, that it was not one of my brothers. And then there was nothing. No sounds of flesh against flesh, no knuckles cracking or bones crunching. There were cries of agony or any laughter of defeat.

Simply dead, mind-numbing, silence.

Before I could manage to identify the fallen mass, I sank into a deep darkness that swallowed me until my mind lost all consciousness.


	20. The Water Was Red

A harsh and quick shaking motion pulled me from my brief slumber. I didn't even have to look up to know that is was Darry's strong hand on my shoulder, shaking me, like usual. It felt different this time though. The grip and the ruggedness were the same, but there was a small, almost unnoticeable difference. Darry was almost being gentle.

"Ponyboy, come on, Pony. Wake up, buddy. I need you."

I scrunched my eyes tight and then blinked several times to adjust to night vision after waking. I could tell I had merely been unconscious for less than a minute or so but it still felt like I had slept for a year. Everything felt heavy, from my head to my feet, and all that had happened was a blur. I could barely recall why I was even outside, let alone lying in the grass.

I glanced up. The whole earth seemed still in that second; that second that I saw the crumpled figure of a body lying on the ground only feet ahead of me. With that image, my mind fully jolted back to reality. I remembered talking with my brothers, them holding me. I remembered the peace. Then I hesitantly recalled the Socs and them breaking that peace. As everything flooded back to me, I suddenly remembered the sharp and white hot pain I had felt only moments earlier. I sat up swiftly and clutched my hand over my arm in pain. Warm, thick liquid covered my fingers instantly. For a second, I thought I was going crazy because I could feel my heart beating through my wound. It pulsed in agony with every breath I took and every beat inside my shivering chest.

Darry let out a tiny gasp and ripped off part of his shirt, hastily but efficiently wrapping and tying it around the new opening of the flesh in my upper arm. Its white shade did not last very long and I soon realized that not only my fingers and Darry's shirt were stained. A red puddle sat in the grass where I had fallen. The darkness tried to hide its color, making it appear to be merely dark water, but nothing could conceal the heavy iron aroma it produced.

"Pony, hey, look at me. Stay with me."

I guess he could see in my eyes that I was becoming dizzy and fading again from seeing all of the blood, or because of my wound. I couldn't tell. I thought I was being stupid for reacting like that to blood, as I had seen a Soc lying in an entire pool of his own before. The image of the dead boy made me remember the unknown lifeless figure that was still near me.

"Ponyboy, I need you."

In that instant our eyes met sharply.

"It's Soda."

My heart dropped like a bomb falling from the sky.  _No. No, it can't be Sodapop. It can't be!_ I snapped my head back towards to darkened silhouette that was still unmoving. That shadowed figure could not have been my brother, it was not possible. By then, Darry was yanking me off the ground and pulling me quickly towards the reality I didn't want to face. As we drew closer I could begin to make out his blue DX shirt. Although, now, it was no longer blue, at least, not all of it. I collapsed to my knees next to him, shaking, and tears already forcing their way from my eyes.

"Is he - ?"

"No." Darry replied sternly and instantly, as if proclaiming it to himself as well. "Not yet. But he will be if we don't get him to a hospital, now." He was already scooping our brother up into his arms, gingerly but with speed. "I applied pressure but I can't stop the bleeding." We were both running. "The damn Socs ran off. It was that tall, lanky one."

I shuddered. He was the guy whose tires we had slashed. I had gotten my own brother stabbed, maybe even killed.  _No. Don't start thinking like that again._ I didn't have time to think anymore. Darry had me pushing down on the wound decorating Soda's stomach as we bolted, side by side. I couldn't think about me. I could only think about Soda, about keeping him alive.


	21. Love is Here and Now You're Gone

The hospital seemed as if it was cities away from where we were. With every running step, I could swear the images in front of me were growing farther and farther away. I blinked hard to attempt to correct this vivid, fear-induced hallucination. Darry kept shouting at the both of us. He He unrelentingly reminded me to keep going and to hurry up, even though I was a few steps ahead of him the entire time. He also continued to command Soda to "hang in there, buddy" and to not die.

_Die. Dead. Sodapop dead. No!_

I shook my head rapidly, pushing the possibility far out of my mind, and picking up the pace even more, prompting Darry to do the same. I was a fast runner by nature and could out run just about anyone that I knew, even Darry, although he was one of the next fastest boys around. Adrenaline had kicked in though, pushing me forward like a rocket. I could hear Darry's weighted gasps from behind me, but he managed to keep up. I could tell his adrenaline and body were doing double time. Darry was one of those guys that if me or Soda or one of the guys even were trapped under a bus or something, his adrenaline would kick in and he would be able to lift it off of us with no sweat.

We finally reached the hospital as I was feeling ready to collapse. We burst through the emergency entrance doors, the banging echoing through the eerily quiet hospital. There was a small child huddled in his mother's arms, whimpering, in the corner. There was a cute blonde sitting behind an oversized counter, chewing pink bubblegum and rifling through clipboards. The staff hustled about, exchanging papers and words, but it still seemed calm.

Of course, that was until we flew in. Darry was screaming before we were through the doors. In an organized scramble, doctors and nurses surrounded us. They scooped up my brother onto a narrow bed on wheels and pushed him down the nearest hallway. Darry and I rushed after them. I could now only see glimpses of Soda between the bodies now encompassing him. They shouted phrases and terms that were a foreign language to my ears, except for one or two words I recognized from health class or movies and books. I caught a flash of Soda's face right before colliding with a tall woman in white.

"I'm sorry boys, you can't go in there."

"But he's our brother!" I shouted desperately, attempting to squeeze past her. The two of us could have easily pushed her out of our way, but Curtis boys did not, under any circumstances, hit a woman. I pulled back in pain as I bumped my arm with her's. As I went to clutch the wound I had forgotten about in the race to the hospital, I suddenly realized the amount of red liquid pouring out. My entire arm was stained, along with the side of my shirt and pants. In that instant, my feet gave way from underneath me. Darry had me by the underarms before I even began to fall. Everything around me was disoriented and even talking was muffled. I could make out a couple of people rushing towards me before the light around me slowly dimmed and I gave way to the darkness.

The hallways were dark and vacant. The only sounds I could find were the squeaking of my sneakers against the tile and a low, monotonous electric beep. I rubbed my fingers in my ears, imagining that they were just ringing or something, but the continuous, piercing noise remained. It was distant, but with every step I could tell I was slowly getting closer to the source. I rounded another corner and made my way cautiously down a flight of stairs. It was like a maze. I thought I would be wandering for hours if I made a wrong turn. There was something like a school cafeteria in the next room, but still, with no one inside.

I continued on, through another hallway and past a familiar looking large desk. I glanced behind it for the petite blonde haired woman, but she was nowhere to be found. I listened for the smack of her chewing gum or the hushed whimpering of the boy, but was still greeted with only the single ringing. It was now far louder than when I had first discovered it.

I pushed past a set of doors and into a small room. My entire body froze. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, and I could barely even breathe. Lying on the bed only inches in front of me was the most familiar boy. It was difficult to recognize him through all the bandages and scrapes. And then of course there was, the blood. It was everywhere. It began at his chest but flowed it all directions. The boy's hair was not how I remembered it either. It was mangled with splashes of red throughout the normally radiant locks. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the thin green stagnant line that had drawn me here with its deafening sound. As I stared at it, the noise grew louder and louder until I was forced to shield my ears with my hands. I ducked down as the glass on the doors shattered behind me. The boy I knew but did not recognize shot up from his motionless position and turned his glare directly into my eyes.

"You did this!"

"No" I sniveled, crouching back into the corner farthest away from him. I attempted to look away but was caught in a deadlock with those piercing, hateful eyes.

"It's all your fault!"

"No, no, no, no, no!"

The pressure of a hand on each of my shoulders awoke me from the all-to-real dream. The thin sheet on the bed I found myself laying on was ruffled and nearly entirely off of my body. I went to lean back, but discovered no pillow to catch head. Darry let go of me and reached down to the floor, picking up the small pillow I deducted had flown off the bed in my fit.

"Easy, Pony" A soft voice found my ringing ears. At first, I failed to recognize it. I would have assumed it was one of the doctors or nurses, but they would have most likely used my first name, or no name at all. Some people felt uncomfortable at first when they learned my name. People would call me "son", "boy", or "honey". A nurse called me honey after the fire in Windrixville. My English and Math teachers merely referred to me as "Curtis" and my elderly Geography teacher always addressed me as "son".

"Take it easy, now."

I glanced up at Darry who was staring down at me with a sea of emotions dwelling inside his eyes. When he spoke, they were calm and comforting. Yet, when he looked directly at me, they were overflowing with worry.

"Darry? What -?" I stumbled with my words.

"You fainted. Doc says that kid who stabbed you must've hit the brachial artery or whatever it is called. You, uh, you lost a lot of blood. Says you're lucky you didn't bleed to death before we got here. You fainted, after, after we brought, "he trailed off for a moment, looking past me as if far off in the distance, "after we brought Soda in."

 _Soda!_ I couldn't believe he hadn't been the first thing on my mind when I woke up.

"Darry, how is he? Is he okay? Is he alive? Darry? How is Soda?"

His silence made my stomach lurch. My eyes searched his for something, anything, but they couldn't even meet them. Darry's darted nervously in every direction except at me. Finally, I couldn't take it. I leaned forward, forcing our eyes to lock.

"Darry, how is Soda?"


	22. A Hard Day's Night

Our eyes stayed locked for what seemed like a lifetime. Part of me desired to reach out and strangle my eldest brother for withholding this information from me. The other part, saw his face. His face, which was most often times stern and hard like a rock. His face, which rarely revealed to the world any true, deep emotion. This face, was now covered in fear.  _Darry, afraid? Impossible._ I had never witnessed it that I could recall, at least not to this extent. He was fearful when he had faced me in the bathroom the day after I had gotten drunk at Tim Shepherd's and had even let himself cry. That day, which seemed as if it were years ago.

His brow was narrowed and his eyes were glossed over with what I assumed to be caged tears. His hands were quivering just enough to notice. His breathing was altered too, and in that moment, I became terrified.

I opened my mouth to ask again but Darryl beat me.

"I don't know, Pony" He said, the sound of defeat in his voice. "They, the doctors, they won't tell me anything. I'm sorry."

I leaned back into the bed, letting out a labored yet weak sigh. I yearned to simply keep sinking into the cushion below me until it swallowed me entirely.  _They won't tell me anything. That can't be good. Soda's probably dying right now and they won't tell us anything!_

As if on cue, a white coated man entered the room. I was overjoyed to see him until my eyes lowered from his young face. Blemishes of red painted his once fully white uniform and I quickly sat up at the sight. He seemed to catch my expression as I noted my brother's blood and a small, uncomfortable cough formed in his throat. There was a brief silence between the three of us.

"Doc," Darry broke the tension, "how is my brother? Is he alive?"

I leaned forward while the doctor's shoulders slouched.

"Your brother is alive."

Those four words washed over me like the waves on a beach. They sent me backwards and I landed on the bed with utter relief.

"I apologize that you were left in the dark for so long," the doctor stated a little shakily, as if it was his first day on the job, "your brother was in critical condition for some time. He lost a lot of blood and did some damage to one of his organs. He flat lined when you first brought him in but we got him back."

 _Got him back?_ I was becoming angry.  _He didn't go to the store, he was shot!_ Then the other word he had said flashed in my memory.  _Flat lined._ The piercing sound echoed once more through my ears and I tried to block out the horrific nightmare.

"We were able to repair the damaged organ. He will have to be in a wheelchair for some time and then will probably need the use of a cane for awhile afterwards. Other than that, he will be fine."

"Can we see him?" I asked excitedly.

"He is in a lot of pain and needs his rest. I'm sorry but –"

"He is our brother!" Darry roared, back to his old self. "The same brother who you let us not know if he was dead or alive for God knows how long!"

"Well," I could tell this man didn't carry much of a backbone, good thing he hadn't been the one holding us back from the door, "maybe, just for a short time. Just a couple minutes. Then he needs to rest."

We happily agreed to the terms and allowed the doctor to escort us to Soda's new room.

As we made our way down the halls, I couldn't help but shudder. Clips of my dream flashed before my eyes. The cream colored walls, the yellow trim, the speckled square tiles below my feet. We rounded a tight corner and found ourselves at the end of a hall, facing a closed door that mirrored the one in my mind. The doctor pressed it open and held it there with his body, allowing us to enter and pass him. Darry didn't hesitate, as I froze. The diminutive room was identical, just as the door had been, just as the halls had been. Everything was the same, which meant –  _No._ Still, there he was, motionless.  _This can't be happening. It can't be. It can't –_

"Hey," the doctor said looking down at me as I hovered in the doorway, "are you alright?"

"Yeah," I answered, disconnected and barely aware of his presence.

I swallowed hard and pushed my eyelids together with great force to block out the images of my brother leaping at me in rage. When I stepped inside and let my eyes open, I half expected to see him inches away from my face. When he wasn't, I let out hidden sigh. I glanced over. No thin green line. I nearly jumped in the air for joy.

"Hey guys."

The voice was small and fragile and seemed to be somewhere off in the distance, but I still would recognize it anywhere. I rushed next to Darry would was already at Soda's bedside.

"Hey there little buddy." Darry replied with a large grin adorning his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Wonderful."

We both smiled at his sarcasm. Same old Sodapop.

"They treating you good?" Darry asked.

"They're making me stay in bed and rest a lot, it blows, but they saved my life so I can cut them some slack I guess."

Darry smiled and I finally allowed myself to accept the fact that the nightmare was just that, a nightmare, and chuckled.

"How are you doing, kid?" Soda questioned, his gaze meeting mine, and then my bandages. "Saw you take a hit before I got mine."

"I'm okay." I replied shrugging. "I'm more worried about you,  _kid._ "

"Oh, me? Why, I am as healthy as a horse, as energetic as one too."

"Well," the doctor said, stepping forward, "that energy is going to have to put on hold for awhile." He suddenly glanced over towards the door. "An officer is here to speak with you boys about what happened. He would like to ask you some questions now if you don't mind."

"We don't mind," Darry stated as the man dressed in a dark fabric outfit and shinning badge entered.

"Son, I need you tell me everything that happened. Can you do that?"

"Yeah, sure" Soda answered glancing from me to Darry. "We were out by the tracks –"

"And what were three young boys like yourself doing by the train tracks at night? Some vandalizing?"

I saw Darry's fist clench out of the corner of my eye. This guy wasn't going to help us at all. For a brief second when he walked in I had hoped he was different, from the rest. The cops around here had kids like us pegged as guilty before we even opened our mouths. He was just itching to rest one of us.

"We weren't vandalizing anything, officer. We were," Soda paused and glanced at me¸ his heart reflecting behind his eyes, "we were taking a walk."

"Taking a walk? Really?"

Darry and I nodded in unison.

"So you were, 'taking a walk', at night, and someone just decided to come by and stab two of you?" His tone was dripping with sarcasm and doubt.

"Not just someone" I cut in, agitated at his internal presumptions, "Soc kids."

"Did I ask you a question, son? I would like to hear this from, um –"

"Soda, Sodapop Curtis" Soda declared proudly, as he always did when stating his name.

"Sodapop?" He lifted one of his brows. "Okay then, why don't you tell me exactly what happened?"

"Well, like I said, we were out by the tracks, you know, taking a walk. All of a sudden, this group of Socs came up, all riled up about, um, something."

"Any idea why they would be 'riled up' about something?" The officer asked suspiciously.

"No clue, honest," Soda quickly responded, giving me a brief look. "They just came up to us. We told them we didn't want any trouble. I guess they did 'cause they came at us. There were four of them, and two of them had blades. I saw one of them go for Ponyboy and –"

"Ponyboy?" Now the cop was getting annoyed.

"Ponyboy" Soda repeated, nodding in my direction, "my brother. I saw one go for him and when I seen blood and him fall over like he did, I thought they killed him or something. I went to run to him but another one of them cut me off and stabbed me. When I screamed, they all ran off. I saw Darry running at me and then, well, lights out."

"Is that how both you boys remember it too?"

Darry and I nodded together again. The officer stepped forward, approaching my eldest brother.

"And what is your name, son? Let me guess, does it have something to do with an animal or a beverage?"

"No, sir. It's Darry, Darryl Curtis."

"Curtis. Ponyboy. Three brothers. Why does this all sound so familiar?" He examined me head to toe. "Are you that kid that helped save all those kids from that fire?"

"Yes, sir" I hoped knowing that would lessen his suspicion of us.

"And your friend? He killed that other kid." By his voice I could tell my hopes were dashed with his remembrance of that fact.

"It was self-defense" Darry stated sternly.

The man simply gave a smug smile and cleared his throat in a purposeful way. He didn't have to tell my brothers and I for us to know; we were in trouble, and we were in it deep.


	23. Ain't It a Shame

I couldn't have been more relieved when the officer finally finished his accusing questions and left. That was, until the doctor informed Darry and I that we needed to leave. The three of us protested at first, but when Soda began wincing with movement we both understood and quietly and miserably left our brother. For a second time, my relief was cut into, as we exited the door discovering the same police officer waiting for us.

"I would like to be speak to your brother," He stated as he glared at me but nodded in Darryl's direction, "alone, son."

I rolled my eyes and turned to walk away.

"No," Darry cut in, "whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of Ponyboy."

"I really don't think he wants to hear this right now." The officer replied sternly, almost showing a glimmer of caring in his voice.

"Fine." Darry returned the tone. "Pony, why don't you go call the guys. They'll want to know about this, especially Steve."

"Yeah, sure" I mumbled shuffling away slowly.

I rounded a corner and stopped in place. I continued shuffling my feet against the tile, hoping it would sound as if I had walked away.

"We need to talk" The officer said sharply. I didn't like this already.

"Shoot."

"I don't really believe this whole story. There are a lot of holes and I intend to fill them, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"That, though, is beside the point. This is second time one of your brothers has been involved in something like this, third if you count the fact that you all were there when we took down that Dallas Winston." I imagined Darry's jaw clenching at that statement, as mine did just the same. "And God knows how many more things like this you and your brothers have been involved in. We know about those gang fights you kids like to have so much, rumbles, or whatever you call them now, and I would be willing to bet your brothers have been in them. The kid saving those children from that fire and a couple of those Soc kids' stories saved you three from being split up last time. Social worker is going to want to investigate this and your  _situation_ again. Don't count on getting lucky this time."

With that final heart stabbing statement, I heard his footsteps disappear. There was silence for a moment and then Darry appeared.

"You never did take to listening to what I tell you to do" Darry remarked with a forced and phony smile.

"They're going to take us away, for real this time, aren't they?"

"We don't know that for sure." He tried to sound reassuring but he was never a good liar. "Now, come on. We really should let the guys know what happened. Heck, Two-Bit's probably stumbling over to our place right now to pass out on our couch and is probably wondering where we are."

I allowed myself to give him a small pity laugh at his attempt to cheer me up. Usually, imagining Two-Bit's quirks and antics made anyone laugh. Now, all I thought about was never waking up to him knocking things over in a drunken stupor again. Not being allowed chocolate cake for breakfast, or having my brother tickle me until I finally wake up, or having all my friends at my house nearly every day, seeing them all. Heck, I would even miss Steve. We would never admit it to each other but we did care for one another, even if he could barely stand me being around.  _Steve._ How were Soda and Steve going to handle being separated for the first time since they were toddlers? The longest they had ever been apart was a few days, maybe a week if my family took a trip to the country. My best friend died and I know I can never see him again and it hurts like hell. Still, knowing your best friend is still alive and out there somewhere but not being able to ever see him, well, I think that just might be worse.

"You coming?" Darry called after me as he was already at the end of the hall.

I shook my head and blocked out the thoughts. Maybe Darry was right. Maybe things would work out, like last time. I knew I was merely kidding myself though. Things tended to never work out for kids like us. Sure, we didn't get sent off to a boys' home or anything last time, but two members of our gang, two of our friends, died. We escaped with our lives the previous night, but were going to end up never seeing each other again because of it. No, things rarely "worked out" for people like us, and if they did, you could be sure that something ten times worse was waiting around the corner to knock you square on your ass.


	24. Devil With a Blue Dress

The next few weeks were some of the hardest in my entire life; despite everything I had experienced in the past couple years. It was the anticipation, the not-knowing, that killed me. There were countless questions from classmates, court hearings, and police questionings. I spent an entire weekend cleaning the house for some lady from social services to come over that following Monday. You would have never guessed a bunch of guys like us lived there if you would have seen it then. Two-Bit snuck off with a few of his mother's home decorations and things like that. They really made the place look put together nice. He lent us a nice handmade blanket to throw over the back of our tattered couch, disguising some of the stains and tears. She had a white tablecloth with fancy lace trim for holidays that I put over our cheap kitchen folding table. I even did up the other bedroom, making it appear that we all slept in separate bedrooms. We didn't need to let the government woman know that Sodapop and I shared a bed because of my nightmares. They wouldn't understand and would deduct that they were the result of my poor living conditions or something of the sort.

That weekend and following Monday none of the gang were allowed to come inside the house unless they were extra clean and careful. That didn't matter much, because we all didn't hang around our place together that much anymore. Any free time we managed to obtain was spent at the hospital with Soda. Darry had phoned Two-Bit and Steve that day from waiting area and both of them were over in a heartbeat. Two -Bit made a few cracks about cute nurses that walked by and Steve had to be restrained from heading out immediately and killing the Socs that did this. Thankfully, he was beaten to the punch, literally.

After that night at Tim's with me getting drunk and yelling at him like he was Dal, something changed in the way he treated me. His eyes grew softer when they found me, which I didn't even know was possible for his to do such a thing. He didn't make digs about my size or good grades or anything anymore. Somehow, someway, we connected that night. Dally's murder had shaken our gang to its core. I guess I had never thought how his best friend and worst enemy had dealt with it. Maybe he was more like Dally than he would ever admit. Maybe, deep down, like Dal, he did care.

Word spread quickly about what happened to Sodapop and tempers flared. Most greasers, no matter what gang, took a liking to my older brothers. They respected and feared Darry for his fighting ability and physical strength. They liked Soda because of his greaser attitude, but good heart and charm, pretty much everyone did. Every greaser kid in the area went out hunting for the attackers. Tim Shepherd's gang found them first.

He may have been a hood, but he wasn't dumb. He heard whispers and pieces of what happened and soon put it all together. He gave Curly a mighty good licking for it too. He even hauled his younger brother over to the hospital to apologize to me, to all of us. I think we all had went into shock at that gesture, and at the fact that Tim had initiated it. He forced Curly to tell him everything about the boy who cheated him out of race winnings and his friends. It wasn't long before they found each of them, one by one, alone. I had wanted revenge on those no-good Socs too, but even I cringed when Tim relayed the stories of the jumpings.

Speaking of jumping, I am jumping all over the place. My mind is everywhere. I told you it was a rough couple of weeks. I just hope you can keep up. I barely could.

Keeping up in school was not easy. Paying attention itself was a difficult task. I would just sit and watch the clock tick by, waiting to see my brothers one more time. It may sound weak or girly, but I cherished every single moment I had with them during that time, I had to. Even if Darry and I were arguing or I was merely in the room with Soda while he was sleeping, I was happy to be with them. I knew in my heart and in my head that any one of those moments could easily be my last.

If Darry was overprotective before, he was smothering now. Strangely though, I didn't mind. He arranged his schedule so that he could take me to and pick me up from school. On the few occasions he wasn't able to, he made Steve drive me or had Two-Bit and another neighborhood kid walk with me. I would go straight from school to the hospital each night. I did my homework at Soda's bedside. He was so bored he even asked me to read my book assignments to him or teach him something. That is when you know Soda has absolutely nothing better to do.

The boredom and lack of freedom was murder for my energetic and constantly moving brother. He didn't talk about his injuries and not being able to walk for some time, and none of us brought it up.

After what felt like forever, Soda was released from the hospital and able to come home, even if he still was restricted to a bed for a few more days. When at last he could get out of bed and into a wheelchair, he was as overjoyed as a small child on Christmas morning. He spent his time going in circles and teaching himself tricks. He would even smile and laugh and the rest of us would do the same, relieved to see the old Sodapop again. Darry constructed a ramp off of the porch and it became Soda's new best friend for racing, jumping, and all sorts of crazy things I never imagined could be done in a wheelchair.

It was on one of those days that Soda was perfecting spinning in a tight circle only on his back heels, falling over many times but grinning the entire time, that I allowed myself to hope. For that moment, I thought everything would be alright.

It was in that second that a car that certainly did not belong to anyone in our neighborhood pulled up and a slim pair of legs and short grey heels slipped off the seat and into sight underneath the open car door. I witnessed the figure shadowed behind car windows reach for a large and rectangular object from the passenger seat and gulped as I made out the shape of a briefcase. I recognized those shoes and that case anywhere after how many times she had stopped over. This was it. This was the day.

This was the day that a stranger would either keep us brothers together, or allow us to be torn apart.


	25. Glad All Over

As clean as we'd kept everything the past few weeks, I still couldn't help running around the house, picking up loose items like Darry's work shoes and straightening the already made beds. Sodapop quickly stopped performing his tricks and wheeled himself inside. As I began to panic, I rapped against the bathroom door with an open hand as hard as I could.

"Darry! Darry! Come on! The social service lady is here! Darry!"

I stumbled back against the wall as the door flew open and my older brother burst into the hallway clumsily, tripping over himself and his jeans that were still around his ankles. As he fumbled hurriedly down the hall, yanking his pants up along the way, it looked as if I was watching Sodapop and not Darrel. Soda had a tendency to forget key items of clothing. Usually it was his shoes, but he often took to wandering the house in only his underwear. As brothers, we were used to it. But when Sandy would stop by or he would have to leave in a hurry, he always managed to stick both of his feet in only one pant leg and then trip, tumbling down flat on his face in a heap of wild hair, jeans, and laughter.

Fortunately, Sodapop had decided to join the fully clothed world today and Darry had his jeans on and buttoned in seconds.

"Soda," Darry ordered, "over here. Pony, stand there. Tuck your shirt in, will ya? Alright, remember –"

"I can't do this Darry," I suddenly blurted, ripping my nicest white tshirt out of my pants.

"With all those brains you got, you can tuck in a shirt," Soda chuckled.

"No. Not – I mean –  _this._ I can't do  _this._ What if I say the wrong thing? She's gonna send us awy to some boy's home and –"

"Hey," Darry shook his head and walked over to me, grabbing my shaking arms. "No one is going to take you two nowhere, you hear me?"

Darry stared at me intently until I finally lifted my head and met his eyes. We stayed like that for a moment and I felt myself steadying under his sure gaze. He dropped my hands now that they no longer had a life of their own and began tucking my shirt in for me like dad did when I was little. With a short nod, he patted my shoulder and turned around to answer the woman who had already knocked twice. As the screen door sounded, I felt a slight nudge come from Sodapop's knuckles as he punched me on the leg in his way of reassuring me without words.

"Good morning, Mr. Curtis," the familiar daunting voice entered our home and all I wanted to do was run out the back door.

This woman had always been kind to us and taken our situation and hardships into account, but she was still scary just for the simple fact that she had a hand in our fate as brothers.

"Good morning Mrs. Newman," Darrel shook her hand firmly.

"Mornin'" Soda nodded.

"Morning ma'am," I mumbled, my head down and not following Darry's planned enthusiastic and welcoming greeting.

"How are you today?" Darry continued with a broad smile.

"Better than you three boys I would presume," the petite, black-haired woman nodded tenderly. "I'm sorry I have to be here and do this."

Her voice was hard and course, but she managed to make it soft and compassionate as if her words she spoke were true of her feelings.

"Well," she sighed with a sad smile, "let's get this over with, shall we? How about the tour? I think I remember my way around."

Darry led the woman through the tiny house we called our home, even though she seemed to be guiding herself just fine. It felt weird. With all the people that came and went from our house every day I never thought it'd feel this way. Somehow, she just felt like an intruder, invading our personal space, our home, our family. I ambled behind them to not miss a word while Sodapop followed, continually ramming into my ankles when Mrs. Newman would suddenly stop to examine something and making a humming noise.

"I see Ponyboy is still sleeping in with Sodapop," she mused lightheartedly.

Soda and I exchanged nervous glances and I flapped my lips together, not knowing what to say.

"I'm a social worker, dear," she grinned at me. "I'm trained to look for these things. As a tip, next time, don't leave your copy of Hamlet next to Sodapop's bed."

I wanted to kick myself for the stupid slip but couldn't understand why she wasn't alarmed by the behavior.

"When I was sixteen years old," the middle-aged woman sighed, "I had a reoccurring nightmare of being chased by a bear after one attacked my uncle on a hunting trip up north. I convinced my little sister to sleep with me for a month by telling her there were monsters under her bed. With everything you've been through, Ponyboy, I commend you for being able to sleep at all and admitting your problems to your brother and allowing him to be there for you is no weakness. It speaks volumes as to how close you three really are."

"I – I don't –"

"I'm not here to rip you three apart like you might think. Maybe someone else would, but I don't want to have to do that. I'm not really supposed to be telling you anything but I've always pulled for you boys. You three need each other and taking what family you have left would be, I think, cruel and unnecessary." She hesitated and brushed a strand of limp hair from her eye. "Kids in this neighborhood get into a lot of trouble, with or without parents. Sometimes, the parents only make it worse. I worked on your friend, Johnny Cade's, case. That's right. I tried so hard to get that boy out of there but those parents hid everything. I couldn't walk away with one ounce of proof and I will always feel terrible for that."

"Johnny never said anything about that," I mumbled, wondering why my best friend would have kept something from me.

"His mother called 911 when he was just maybe seven or eight. She claimed that her husband had a loaded gun and was going to kill her and their son. When police got there se changed her story entirely. We did an investigation, but that kid was too scared to say a word and neither of his parents were going to give us the truth. There was – nothing I could do." There seemed to be almost an apology in her words as she frowned and cleared her throat.

"There  _are_ some issues we do need to discuss," she announced, heading back into the living room. "For starters, your friendship with Dallas Winston almost cost you your case last time. Believe me when I say we have  _files_ on him. And we also have files on the Shepherd family as well. We understand that they were close, Dallas and Tim." She coughed as if hiding something behind what she was saying. "Now, by order of my superiors, I have to tell you to stear clear of him and his gang. Having said that, I have been informed by your school that you were seen skipping school with Curly Shepherd and some of his friends. Not that I think you'll be doing it again, but I must advise against it. Besides, what I'm told you went through isn't even the real initiation. You don't want to know what is."

"How would you –" Soda trailed off as he accidentally spoke the question we all were thinking.

"Let's just say I grew up not far from here."

"Were  _you_ a member of the Shepherd gang?" Soda gawked.

"No," she laughed curtly, "but all my brothers and boyfriends were. Speaking, off the record, of course. If my boss knew I knew Tim Shepherd when he was in diapers I'd be relocated."

You've got to be kidding me," Sodapop shook his head. "And here we thought you were going to split us up."

"I use my background to help kids that were like me, but I also don't give out hand outs," she informed us sternly but still showing a smile playing on the edges of her lips. "I didn't want to stay a greaser all my life and have a kid at seventeen. But I didn't want to just abandon the world I grew up in. I stayed in school, got a college education by working hard and here I am. School is important and with your grades and talents, Ponyboy, you can really go far. This arrangement with you boys being in the care of Darrel was agreed upon with the condition that you stay in school. You missed a lot while you were gone and now skipping classes and slipping grades. The school year is over but I understand you'll be taking some summer courses?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Seeing as you were already ahead of your grade when all this started, it shoulnt be difficult for you to catch up. We will be monitoring your progress very closely and you have until the end of your first semester next year to pull your grades back up. Do you think you can do that?"

I nodded and desperately attempted to contain my excitement.

"Alright then."

"Is that it?" Darry coughed.

"Well, someone will be in contact with you shortly regarding the money of course."

"Money? What money?"

"You haven't been informed yet?"

"Informed of what?" Darry pressed, still hanging onto a thread of politeness in his voice.

"It seems that the boys who stabbed your brother had a surprising change of heart." She said with a quick knowing glance. "They went to the police yesterday and confessed to attacking you three. One of the boy's father's doesn't want to make this a legal matter and has offered to pay Sodapop's medical bills."

"You're kidding," Darry nearly choked on her words.

"No, I'm not. Of course, if you're unsatisfied with the amount you can obtain an attorney and press charges."

"This can't be happening," I muttered to no one imparticular. "Things like this don't happen to us."

"Well, apparently they do now when you have friends like the Shepherds. Not that I –" she cleared her throat purposefully, "condone such behavior." She finished with a curl of her lips. "Look boys, I didn't like violence when I was growing up and I still don't but I know from living here that it's nothing something you can fully avoid, no matter the circumstances. Nut you  _can_ avoid some of it. This isn't a free ride. I may be cutting you some slack because of my past but I wont tolerate laziness, irresponsible behavior or less than 100% effort on each of your parts. I don't have the final say in a lot of this, but I can provide you with a lot of sway. Ponyboy, I better see some grade improvement and I want you back to something extracurricular besides slashing tires. Go back to track, get a part-time job that  _doesn't_ interfere with schoolwork, something. Sodapop, I think it is an admiral thing that you dropped out of school to work full time to help your brothers, but I would like for you to at least obtain a GED. It's a series of tests that, if you pass, will be the equivalency of a high school diploma."

"But I ain't smart like Ponyboy. I can't take no tests," Soda groaned.

"I understand that your hours at the DX station are being cut back until you're healed. That should give you plenty of time to study. I've brought all the information you'll need. Your brothers can help you." She smiled and handed him the pamphlets and a few study gyides as he just stared at them like they were poison. "Darrel, I will need you to make available to me information on your bills, income, budget, everything else along those lines. I will also need to see Ponyboy's grades periodically and Sodapop's test results, of course. I realize that we can access all of that information already but this will hold you three more responsible. I have to make it look like I'm at least giving you somewhat of a hard time. I will be making visits here once a month for the next six months, so you might have to get your own tablecloth," she winked.

"Are you sure this is really happening?" Darrel swallowed and shook his head.

"Pretty sure." Mrs. Newman chuckled but then turned quite serious. "Of course, it isn't all up to me. It's also up to the court. I'm sticking my neck out for you three. Most of the people I work with think you three should've been split up along time ago and put into foster care. I can kleep fighting for you as long as you're all willing to keep fighting too. You boys need to keep your noses clean, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," we answered almost in unison.

"Good. I will see you in a month then and you'll be haring from my office."

"Thank you Mrs. Newman," Darry smiled as she stepped outside.

The boys waited for her car engine to rev before breathing.

"Did that really just happen?" I almost shouted, still sure I was dreaming and it would all soon turn into a familiar nightmare.

"I guess we owe Tim Shepherd one mighty thank you," Sodapop laughed.

"I never want to be on his bad side," I shuddered, thinking of what more his gang could have done to those Socs to get them to confess.

"We got lucky this time," Darry nodded soberly. "We wont keep getting lucky like this if we keep this up."

"Way to go Darry," Soda rolled his wide and bright eyes, "spoil the good mood."

"I'm just saying that we're going to have to be more careful from now on. You heard what she said. Besides, now those guys are going to be itching for payback and they wont go after the Shepherds to get it. Neither of you two are walking anywhere alone until this cools off. I mean it."

"Don't worry 'bout me Dar'," Soda grinned a Sodapop grin, "I ain't walkin' anywhere for awhile."

"You know what I mean," Darry swatted Sodapop playfully across theback of his head. "Be careful. They won't hold off jumping you 'cause you're in a wheelchair. They'll especially be after you, Pony. And about this GED –"

"Alright, alright," Sodapop waved his hands, "Lordy you sure do like to put a damper on things big brother! Come on now. I'm alive. We're not being shipped off to some boys' home. I say, we hold off on the talking and do a little celebrating, huh? What'd ya say Darry?"

"Okay, okay, fine," Darry sighed after unfolding his arms. "Let's celebnrate."

"To the Dingo!" Sodapop cheered.

I couldn't help but double over in laughter as Sodapop wheeled himself in circles, hooting in excitement. Darry patted my shoulder and before I knew it he was pulling me into a tight hug. The gesture was surprising but I welcomed it eagerly. I was just beginning to not be able to breathe when he released me and ruffled my slicked back hair. I tried to rip away from him but he was too strong.

"Get him Darry!" Sodapop chuckled.

Darry quickly had me on the ground and I felt his fingers run across my sides. As much as I tried to fight it, I couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Uncle!" I cried out, able to withstand a swift beating, but never Darry's tickling.

Darry sat up off of me and before he could react I was pouncing on top of him. If I had anything on my Superman of a brother it was speed. This upper hand wouldn't last long but I enjoyed tickling him while I could. I pulled my arm around his neck just like Two-Bit always did with me and demanded that he give up. He refused and struggled to break free. I wouldn't be surprised if Darry was letting me win on purpose like he did when we were kids. I guess I didn't care this time. Sodapop wheeled himself closer to the scrap and began lightly kicking Darry and hollering from his chair. It wasn't long before the three of us were all laughing together. It was truly the best I had felt in a long time. We were brothers again. We were together. We were alive and we were happy and I knew I wasn't dreaming now as Darry's elbow collided with my side. Even if I was, I never wanted to wake up. Even if my dreams were determined to always turn into nightmares, maybe, just maybe, my life wouldn't always be one. But hell, what did I know? I was just a kid, and I was dead wrong.


End file.
